Man of Steel
by DaggerPen
Summary: BrainIAC. Lex Luthor. Metahumans. Need I say any more?
1. Prologue

Dislaimer: I don't own Superman Returns, or even Superman. I own nothing but the plot. I am not making any money off this.

* * *

The crystal mass floated silently through the vacuum, inching gradually through space as it orbited the hot yellow star. It was relatively small, especially when compared to the massive planets that it hovered between, but still impressive in its malice. The surface was black, but not like the vacuum surrounding it. It was lusterless, and faded, as if all the life had been washed from it. Across the surface spread poisonous green veins, letting out a sickly glow that gave the place an eerie light. Massive columns stretched from the base, menacing the stars. A few had fallen, and were strewn haphazardly over the ground, monuments toppled by an azure and crimson god. From under one protruded a hand, stark white contrasting against the black void. Near it lay a broken camera and a few dented suitcases, the contents of one strewn across the surface. A hundred yards away lay the only brilliance on this lackluster desert: six crystals, clear as glass and shining with the brilliance of tiny stars. 

Near the mass, heading nearer, was a small throng of crystals, unlike either the polluted abominations or the brilliant prisms. It was black, dark as night, and shined like obsidian. It drifted nearer and nearer, until it finally touched down on the surface. Shoots began to grow off it, plunging into the surface as the object glowed brighter and brighter.

101011downloadingBrianIAC1011001initializeprogram1 011101

The glow began to spread, permeating the dark crystals that made up the island. A protuberance began to grow, extending upwards. First one, then two, then the two connected, shaping themselves. Legs. A waist. A torso. Arms. Finally, a head: a featureless orb that struck fear into the watching stars and planets, casting a cold shadow wherever it went. Soundlessly, the legs broke away from the ground, and the vaguely humanoid figure began to move, tilting its head mechanically. BrainIAC was here.


	2. Bad Day

Clark Kent was not having a good day. No, scratch that- he was not having a good week. In fact, the last 5 years had been nothing but a long chain of disasters, what with Lex Luthor, Zod and his cronies, nearly dying after wasting 5 long years on a fruitless trip to Krypton (or what was left of it, anyways), coming back to find that Lois was not only furious with him, but was engaged and now had a son, finding out that said son was his, having the entire history of his planet and his only link to his biological parents stolen by Lex Luthor, Lex Luthor using his crystals to grow a kryptonite-laced island, being beaten up and stabbed by Lex Luthor and his henchmen, lifting a continent into space, spending a day or so in a coma, and coming back to the Daily Planet to find a massive workload waiting for him. It had been cloudy out for all three days that had passed since he had woken up from his coma, his back still hurt where Luthor had stabbed him, no human painkiller would work on him, he still couldn't find an apartment (he hated hotels- they were expensive, small, there was no place to hide his suits and there was no way to open the windows, as Clark had discovered the hard way) and he had writer's block. Now, to put the icing on the cake, he could not manage to find the three of diamonds that he sorely needed to win.

Solitaire. It had been a long time since he had last played the game. And if he actually had anything to write on his current assignment, it would probably be a long time until he played it again. It had never exactly been his forte, so to speak. Still, there was a limit to the amount of time one could spend staring at a blank document, with the insipid little cursor blinking tauntingly at him in time with the throbbing of his back and head, the loud and annoying voices of his coworkers driving into his skull, making it only that much harder to focus on his assignment. The reconstruction of the city after the destruction caused by New Krypton, as the Daily Planet had named the abomination. Short and sweet, an easy job. He had all the information he needed, right there in his head. He knew what he wanted to say, and exactly how he wanted to say it- pity that he had no idea how to put it into words. Every time he tried, it was like running through water, words and sentences dancing tantalizingly outside of his frantic grasp, pushed farther and farther away by the ever-distracting pain of his wound.

Every time he stood up, every time he sat down, every time he twisted just the wrong way, it was there. Fire running up his nerves, making his cerulean eyes water behind his glasses and his breath catch in his throat as he tried not to cry out in agony. And then there was his headache. It had started this morning, as he had struggled to stay awake while trapped in gridlock. He had not gotten much sleep the past few nights: every time he tried, his back would invariably begin to throb and the people of Metropolis decided to make as much noise as possible (he did not even want to think about the sounds from the room next to his- one didn't need super-hearing to realize exactly what that thumping noise bleeding through the walls was). The taxi in which was sitting in was small, meaning that Clark, being 6'4", had to contort himself into a variety of uncomfortable positions to fit, which did not help his back in the slightest. Most of the roads had been closed due to the destruction caused by Luthor, meaning that they were now no more than one giant, tangled mass of cars. The humming of engines and the honking of horns and the shouting of drivers and the whooshing of air in and out of their lungs and the pounding of their hearts and the rushing of blood through their veins and the tapping of their fingers on their steering wheels and the crying of babies and the yelling of children and the squealing of brakes and the radios that played at such a volume that the drivers would surely be deaf before the age of 30 and the clatter of jackhammers from road crews and so on and so forth- every single sound bombarded him, his concentration too decimated by his lack of sleep to tune the noises out. It was then that his head had begun to throb, falling into the same rhythm as the waves of pain that emanated from his stab wound. It was then that Clark had realized just how very fun this day was going to be.

The constant discussion about his alter ego was not helping, either. Ever since Clark had woken up and left the hospital (and probably before that, too), it seemed like he had been the sole topic of discussion. Lois, bless her heart, had managed to squeeze an article out of his brief visit three days ago. Thanks to her, people were at least convinced that he was indeed alive and well (not so much the latter, though), and had left the hospital of his own will. Sadly, that was not the end of it.

"Where is he now?" "How's he doing?" "Why hasn't he been seen since he left the hospital?" "Why did he leave the hospital?" And so on, and so forth. Granted, the questions were partly his fault- if he hadn't left in such a hurry, people wouldn't be so worried. Not that that was enough to make him go back. Clark had always had a mild phobia of hospitals. When he was younger, he and his parents had always been terrified that someone would find out just what Clark was, and that he would be shipped off to a lab somewhere and dissected like a frog. Images of white-coated scientists and cold metal tables had haunted his dreams. "ET" had given him nightmares for a week. So, it was only natural that Clark would have a phobia of hospitals, and just clinical environments in general. (Not that he would ever admit that to anyone, of course...)

And if it wasn't Superman, then it was Lex Luthor. Millions of voices, day in and day out, asking the same question that plagued Clark's mind: where was Lex Luthor? Where was the madman who had nearly killed not only Clark, but billions of innocents all over the world? Where was the megalomaniac that had stolen his heritage? Some thought that perhaps Luthor was dead, that he had been flung into space with his monstrous creation. Clark, however, knew better. Much as he wished that it were true (and invariably ended up feeling guilty and ashamed of himself for wishing death on someone, even a man as evil as Luthor), that Luthor would never threaten him or his loved ones again, he knew that the man would never be out of his hair so easily. No, Luthor was out there, somewhere, biding his time, waiting for the next opportunity to strike. And, if Clark had anything to say about it, that opportunity would never come. He had tried to look for Luthor after visiting Jason, taking a well-deserved sunbath as he gave the Earth a quick once-over. But he had been unable to spot either Luthor or his goons. Clark would have to look more thoroughly once the was feeling better. Once the thrice-damned clouds would stop blocking the beloved sun and allow him to drink in the pure radiation. If the weather continued like this for much longer, Clark was going to have to splurge and buy a sunlamp. He had to admit, that didn't sound to bad at the moment...

Speaking of sound... Clark hastily pulled up the whole two sentences of his article that he had written as he heard footsteps approaching behind him.

"Hey Mr. Clark!" called out a chipper voice. Oh, no. It was Jimmy. It wasn't that Clark didn't like the photographer. Jimmy Olsen was the brother that Clark had never had. But the fact was, Jimmy Olsen was always... very energetic. And perky. Very perky. Right now, Clark really didn't feel like putting up with perky.

"Hey, Jimmy," Clark said with much less enthusiasm.

He did not seem to notice. "So, watcha workin' on?" Jimmy was a very loud person. Clark wondered why he hadn't noticed it before.

"R-reconstruction efforts. From the destruction caused by N-New Krypton." The name left a bad taste in his mouth. That- that thing did not deserve to be called by the same name as his home planet. Sadly, the name had stuck, and Clark could avoid neither saying nor hearing it.

"Oh, yeah. I've got some photos for that- here, want to see them?"

"Ah, Jimmy, I-" he started, but it was too late. The photographer was already taking out a thick manila folder. He placed it down on Clark's desk, managing to knock over Clark's pencil-holder in the process, and triumphantly proclaimed,

"Here they are!" Leaning over carefully to avoid aggravating his injury, Clark opened the folder. Inside were several large glossies of various scenes from around Metropolis: volunteers helping to replace broken windows, construction workers repairing large cracks in the road, various charity workers talking with displaced people.

"Th-these are really good, Jimmy," Clark said truthfully.

"Really? You think so?" Jimmy asked, beaming.

"Y- Of course," Clark said, handing him back the folder. "Why don't you go show them to Mr. White?" He said the last part perhaps a bit too hopefully, but Jimmy didn't seem to notice. Taking the folder, Jimmy turned and headed towards the chiefs office. Slightly relieved, Clark leaned back in his chair...

"Ah!" Clark cried out in pain and surprise, bolts of agony shooting up his back. Jimmy turned around.

"Hey, Clark, are you okay?" Clark shuddered in pain, his eyes watering, his hand clutching the source of his discomfort. He whimpered softly. Ow. Ow. Ow. Slowly, the pain dulled, and Clark relaxed.

"Y-yeah. I'm fi- I'm fine," he managed to choke out. Jimmy, of course, was not satisfied by this answer. Frowning slightly, he walked back over to Clark.

"You don't look fine. What's wrong?"

"It's-" Clark stopped and took a deep breath (not too deep, of course) and let it out. "It's nothing, Jimmy. I just... bumped a... cut, that's all."

"Oh, yeah, that's right. You got hurt in the New Krypton earthquake, didn't you?" That had been his excuse for his absence, anyway. It was technically true- New Krypton had, after all, been the source of it.

Clark nodded. "Yeah." He turned back to his unwritten article, but Jimmy did not move away. "Umm, Jimmy?" Clark asked, trying to be polite.

"Yeah?" the photographer asked.

"I kind of, you know, need to work on my article, so..." Jimmy got the hint.

"Oh, okay, you need to concentrate. Gotcha." Jimmy started back towards Perry's office, and Clark breathed a sigh of relief. Lifting his glasses, he massaged the bridge of his nose in aggravation. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

Perry White frowned, watching the bespectacled reporter work. Or, rather, pretend to work- he was not exactly being subtle about his playing solitaire. Perry decided to let it slide- Kent always turned in his articles by deadline, and besides, the poor kid wasn't exactly having a good week.

Subtlety. It was odd, really- Perry had always thought that it was a trait that Kent was sorely lacking. His obvious crush on Lois, to start. Perry had always thought of Kent as a farmboy with a passion for journalism, wearing his heart on his sleeve. Open, naive, trusting, honest. However, recently, Perry had realized just how subtle Clark could be when he wanted to. The way he slouched just enough, made his voice just a little higher (or was it lower? Perry didn't really know what his real voice sounded like), dulled the brilliance of his eyes. Perry was still amazed at how inconspicuously Clark managed to slip in and out. Looking back, he couldn't name a single day (with the exception of the past 3) that Kent hadn't ducked into the stairwell or elevator, hand on his tie. But, he realized, if he hadn't been looking for it, he never would've noticed. It was an amazing feat. Perry's lips quirked slightly as he realized how easily Mr. Kent had pulled the wool over the eyes of the best investigative reporters in Metropolis, including one Pulitzer-prize winning Lois Lane.

Thinking back, it made so much sense. Kent ducked out, Superman swooped in. Clark had an obvious crush on Lois Lane. There were constant rumors about Lane and Superman. Kent went on an extended "soul-searching" trip. Superman went to Krypton. Superman fell into a coma, then left the hospital shortly after waking up. Kent, after going AWOL for the time that Superman was in the hospital, then showing up later looking horrible and favoring his right side. Then, of course, there was the fact that Clark looked exactly like Superman, down to the faded birthmark above his right eyebrow (Perry still couldn't believe he had missed that).

Idly, he wondered who the real persona was: the shy, easily overlooked office nerd, or the detached alien who flew around in tights and a cape. Perhaps a little of both.

Who else knew, anyways? Perry had noticed that Clark had a picture on his desk: a younger Clark, grinning, standing between two adults. His parents? If so, biological or adopted? If not, then who were they? How old had Kent been when he first came to Earth? Perry had never before realized how little he knew about Kent. He had never bothered to ask.

"Ah!" The exclamation jolted him out of his reverie. Looking back up, he noticed Kent tensed at his desk, a hand on his lower back. He winced sympathetically. Perry had been stabbed once before, when he was still a green reporter. Hurt like hell. He couldn't even imagine what it must be like for Kent, a man who had almost never felt pain in his life. Judging by Kent's state, it would probably be a while before Superman came back. Oh well. The world would keep for a few more days.

There was a quiet creaking as Olsen burst in the door, clutching a manila folder and grinning like a madman. With a sigh, Perry straightened up. The world would keep, but the Planet wouldn't. It was time to get back to work.

* * *

Lois Lane closed her eyes and threw back her head, swallowing the aspirin with a loud gulp. Headaches. It seemed like everyone had one lately, even Kent, who never seemed to get sick. Right now, the last thing she needed was yet another headache. She already had too many, the largest one being a certain caped hero. She had no idea what to do now. When he had first left, she had been a mess. Sure, they had been going through a tough spot in their relationship- the incident with Zod had made them both seriously rethink their romance. They had loved each other deeply, but he had been so worried that being close to him would end up getting her killed, she had been worried about whether she could handle sharing him with the world. But she had never in a million years expected him to just... leave. At first, she had been scared that the worst had happened- that some villain had finally succeeded in killing him. But, when no one stepped forward to claim responsibility, when no criminal with illusions of grandeur had launched an attempt to conquer the world, or organize crime, she had realized that he had just- gone. No warning, no goodbyes. Not even a letter. Just gone. She had been furious, sad, embarrassed, and confused. It had been as if someone had torn out a part of her heart, her soul.

When she had first met Richard, he had just come out of a messy breakup. They had hit it off immediately, both seeing themselves in the other. Mutual rebounds. Second date, they had slept together. He had used a condom, of course- they were not stupid. However, when shortly afterwards, Lois had emptied her stomach every morning, well... they had just assumed that the condom had ripped. It had never even crossed her mind that Jason could be Superman's son- she had even asked him, before they had... just before Zod and his cronies had arrived. Would they ever be able to have children? He had said that he didn't think so, that humans and Kryptonians were genetically incompatible. She had believed him. It made perfect sense: no matter how human he seemed, he looked, he was still an alien. The chances of their genes being compatible were astronomical. And Jason's fragility had banished all doubts about his paternity. It didn't matter that Jason had his eyes. There was no way Jason could be Superman's son, end of story.

Obviously, they had all been very, very wrong. Jason's reaction to kryptonite had been suspect, and the piano had proved it. Jason was Superman's son. Superman was Jason's father. And now, she had no idea what to do about it. Obviously, she would have to allow Superman to be part of Jason's life. Anything else would be unfair to both of them. But there were so many things to consider, so many questions that were raised. What would Jason inherit from his father? He had his strength, that was obvious, but what else? Would he be able to fly? Move at nearly the speed of light? Bounce bullets off his chest? Shoot beams of heat from his eyes? See through things? Hear sounds from miles away? Most importantly, would he be vulnerable to kryptonite? He had been very uncomfortable around it, that was certain, but she didn't know if that was because it had actually hurt him, or because he was just scared of Luthor.

Another headache to consider was her relationship with Richard. Sure, she was happy with him, and he with her. It was a stable life, good for him and good for Jason. But did they love each other? Did she love him more than Superman? Would she ever be content to just stay with him? Reluctantly, she had to admit that, whatever her feelings for Superman were, she did not love Richard as much as she should. He was a good man- he deserved better than lukewarm affection. He deserved better than her.

And, finally, there was the issue of how to tell Richard about Jason's parentage. How to break it to him that the boy that he loved, that he had raised as his own, was not his. Was the son of the man that she had sworn not to love. And, of course, how and when to tell Jason about his parentage. Ever since that night on the Gertrude, Jason had been very reserved. He had hardly spoken, and had refused to even go near the piano. He had not talked about the incident on the Gertrude, and Lois had not brought it up. But the elephant in the room could not be ignored forever, and they would have to talk about it. Soon.

She sighed, looking around the room. Kent, her former partner, was sitting at his desk, looking about as horrible as she felt. Poor guy. The only attention that he had even gotten since his return to the Planet had been in relation to his injuries. Guiltily, Lois realized that she had hardly even spoken to him. Clark was a good man- just because he reminded her of Superman, just because he had gotten the blackout story instead of her, was no reason to ignore the guy. She'd have to take him out to lunch sometime, catch up on what he had done while he had been away. She couldn't afford to mistreat another good man in her life.

* * *

Okay, I'm done now. Reviews are awesome, thanks. 


	3. The Cat and the Viper

Katherine Kowalski rested a hand tentatively on the frame of the door, silently watching her boyfriend. He was still wearing the same overcoat that he'd had on for the past few days, unable to find any outfit on this boat that would even come close to fitting him. Kitty, on the other hand, had discovered that Sally Steinberg's clothes fit her almost perfectly, and was now wearing a white blouse and a simple blue skirt. It was not exactly her style, but at the very least, it was not full of sand and salt-water.

Lex was sitting and smoking a cigar, contemplating something in his hand, although from this angle, she could not see what it was. She chewed on her lower lip nervously, reflecting. She loved Lex deeply, and admired his intelligence and dedication. He had charm, wit and eloquence: it was this that had first attracted her to him.

When they had first met, she had been a maid at the Vanderworth household, struggling to make ends meet and to support her unemployed, abusive boyfriend's alcoholism. She wasn't entirely sure why he had chosen her, of all people. All she knew was that, at the time, she had been grateful for the attention. There had been no romantic interest at first: he had simply been a good friend. When he had first made advances on her, she had rebuffed him, and that was the end of that. He had apologized, and they had gone back to simple companionship.

But when he had found out that her boyfriend beat her, he had been furious. He had tried everything to convince her to leave him, but she had refused, stubbornly clinging onto the hope that she could change him, and eventually, he had seemed to give up on both fronts. And so, they had continued their friendship for a while, until the day Thomas had died. Alcohol poisoning, the doctors said. Kitty had been distraught, and Lex had comforted her. It was shortly after that that he had started to make advances, and this time, she did not turn him down. Even knowing that he had once been a criminal and a murderer, even knowing that he was planning to scam Gertrude Vanderworth's family out of their rightful inheritance, she had allowed herself to fall in love with him.

But, as much as she loved him, she also feared him- feared what he was capable of. When Lex had first told her of his plan to build his own island, she had been eager to participate. The way he had laid it out to her, it had been a brilliant plan: steal the secrets of advanced Kryptonian technology, use them to build a new country, a land to govern and sell, and mix it with kryptonite to keep Superman at bay. She hadn't known that people would get hurt; she hadn't known that the island would cause the death of billions by means of water displacement; she hadn't known that Lex would beat and attempt to kill one of the greatest heroes the world had known. And, now that she did, now that she knew what Lex was capable of, she didn't know what to do.

* * *

The cloud of smoke enveloped the brilliant emerald metal, leaving a dull gray film over the surface. Lex Luthor wiped the film away with a thumb, tapping the ashes from his cigar into the ash tray as he turned the shard over in his hand. Kryptonite. His most valuable possession. The key to his success, to the downfall of his hated enemy. A tiny fragment of the precious metal, an infinitesimally small fraction of what had been grown on his beautiful island.

Island. Lex ground his teeth as he recalled the events that had taken place only days earlier. He and Kitty had been left stranded on the tiny mass of land, only barely managing to land the helicopter after it ran out of gas. The radio had been damaged by the electromagnetic pulse emitted when his planned kingdom had first began to grow, leaving he and Kitty marooned there, with no means of escape or contact with anyone who could rescue them. That was, until young newlyweds Moe and Sally Steinberg had passed by in their brand new sailing boat. A well timed, well placed flare later, the young couple had stopped their boat, and an hour later, Lex and Kitty were well on their way back to civilization. If Moe and Sally ever got off that island, he would have to make sure they were rewarded for their aid.

Turning his attention back to the object in his hand, he mused silently over it. Previously, he had believed that all Kryptonians were vulnerable to kryptonite. A nice, clear-cut rule. Now, Lex wasn't so sure. The boy, Lois Lane's son, was obviously the son of that damned alien, that much was clear. No normal human had eyes that brilliant shade of blue, nor could they throw grand pianos (ones that were bolted to the ground, no less) like most children threw baseballs. Yes, the boy had clearly inherited his father's strength. The only question was: what else had he inherited? The boy's reaction to kryptonite had been ambiguous, to say the least. Had the metal actually caused him pain, or was he simply scared of the strange bald man shouting and waving strange objects in his face? Lex would have to test that once they were back on dry land.

Lex jumped slightly as a loud string of seemingly random vocalizations assaulted his ears, jolting him out of his reverie, and he cursed under his breath as he flipped open the cell phone. Moe obviously had no taste of which to speak, if his choice of ring-tone was significant of anything. "Crazy Frog". Ugh. Lex would have to get a new cell phone as soon as possible, or change the ring tone, at the very least.

"Luthor here," he said curtly, allowing a trace of irritation to slip into his voice.

'Hey, boss? It's Palmer. Ya said ya wanted t'be informed when we began project KC?"

"Yes, I did. What's your status?"

"Well, we've got all th' equipment up an' runnin', but it's gonna take some time 'fore we start seeing the results."

"Good. Inform me when you find something." Luthor hung up, stuffing the phone back into the pocket of his coat. Glancing around, he noticed Kitty standing in the doorway. He scowled slightly as he remembered her role in his downfall: it was her fault that his beloved crystals were now lost, her fault that he was forced to resort to scouring the bottom of the ocean in the vain hopes of salvaging a decent enough sample of crystal to reform his island.

Anyone else who had betrayed him as Kitty had would have already been killed, but Lex could not bring himself to harm such a lovely specimen. Lex had always had a soft spot for Kitty, ever since he had first lain eyes on her. Beautiful, relatively intelligent and sweet. Against his better judgment, Lex had begun to form a relationship with her, bringing himself closer and closer to her. Her resistance to his advances had only made her all the more desirable, and soon Lex had found himself devoting a large amount of his precious time to making her his own. Kryptonite may have been his most valuable possession, but Kitty was a close second. And when he had found out that her boyfriend was beating her, that he dared to take something so valuable for granted, and that poor, stubborn Kitty had so bluntly refused to leave him- well, Lex's only regret was that he hadn't been able to take care of the poor buffoon personally, face-to-face.

Kitty, realizing that she had been caught, straightened quickly and cleared her throat.

"H-how long until we reach the safe house, Lex?" she asked quietly. Lex stood and stubbed out his cigar in a nearby ashtray.

"No more than a day," he replied, then turned and headed towards the library. Hopefully, the Steinberg's taste in reading material would surpass their taste in ring-tones.


	4. Difficult Conversations

A/N: before I start this chapter, I would like to say something. I'm going to make both Lois and Clark vegetarians in this. I'm going to make Clark one because it seems in character, because he's vegetarian in Birthright, and because we don't see him specifically eat meat in SR. I'm making Lois a vegetarian because, according to SHADOlibrarian, in the shooting script and novelization, Lois became a vegetarian while Clark was gone. Oh, and since I'm a vegetarian, I might be a little predisposed to accepting this idea... ;). Anyways, I'm not going to make a big deal of it or anything, but I wanted you to know so that you weren't caught totally off guard when I referenced it. My deepest thanks to my beta, Dragonflame.

* * *

Her hands clutched the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles stark white against the black surface. She ground her teeth together irritably as the traffic inched slowly, painfully forwards. God, she really needed a cigarette right now.

"I could walk faster than this," Lois complained, slamming on the brakes for the thousandth time today as the cars in front of her once again came to a stop. "We're going to be late! Damn construction crews!"

"Mommy, you said a bad word," Jason admonished from the back. In the rear view mirror she could see him waving a finger at her exaggeratedly. On any other day, she would've found it funny, but right now, she could hardly look at Jason, or, more specifically, those brilliant blue eyes that he most certainly did not inherit from her. She was planning to tell Richard about Jason's parentage tonight, an event that she was both anxious to get over with and reluctant to bring about.

Traffic once again began to move, and Lois brought her foot down on the gas with all the force she could muster.

"Woah, easy there, Lois," Richard said from her right, "I don't know about you, but I'd rather make it there alive and be late." Lois smiled at Richard, but it was forced. Maybe she wouldn't tell Richard tonight. After all, what would it hurt to put it off just one day?

Jason's school was visible now, the large building teasingly close. She screeched to a stop again, flying forward against the seatbelt as the car in front of her halted its momentum for what seemed like the millionth time that morning. Honking the horn in frustration, she rolled down the window and leaned out of it.

"Hey, Grandma, ever hear of a gas pedal?" she shouted, venting her rage and irritation on the hapless driver. Pulling her head back in, she rolled up the window and growled softly. The world was out to get her; that much was obvious.

"Lois, are you okay?" Richard asked quietly, "You seem a little tense."

"I'm fine," she spat, staring resolutely forward. God, she could almost smell the cigarette right now. The soothing smoke, flowing through her body, calming her frazzled nerves... No, she had quit smoking. She shouldn't think about it, couldn't think about it. No. No cigarettes. No.

Well, maybe just one, later, when no one was around - no, she couldn't. It was bad for Jason's asthma. Damn it.

When she pulled into the school parking lot, she was nearing the end of her rope, and it was only 8:30 Turning the car off, she unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed out of the car. Opening the door, she smiled at her son with false cheer. Sliding out, Jason slipped his hands into his parents and together the trio walked to the boy's classroom.

"Bye Mommy, bye Daddy!" he chirped, giving each parent a hug and scrunching his face as he received a farewell kiss. Even in her sour mood, Lois could not help but laugh slightly as the boy exaggeratedly wiped his cheeks clean. Together, she and Richard watched for a moment as her- no, their, Richard was still Jason's father, in spirit if not in blood- son shoved his backpack into his cubby and ran off to a group of friends. Sighing inwardly, she walked back to the car with her fiance. She really did have to tell Richard soon, but the more she thought about it, the more she became convinced that she could afford to put it off for just one more night.

As she and Richard got back in the car, it hit her that she was rationalizing. She didn't really want to tell Richard, so she was trying to convince herself that she didn't have to go through it just yet - except she did. She had already known for days. She should have told him right away, and she had tried to, but invariably fallen prey to cowardice. She had already gone too long without telling him...

So what was it again that was wrong with putting it off for another day?

"Lois? Are you sure you're okay? You're acting really odd today," Richard said. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. She hated that Richard could read her so well. He was always too damned perceptive. She knew that she couldn't put it off any longer, or she'd end up chickening out. Again. It was now or never. Spotting a nearby parking lot, she turned sharply and screeched into it, twisting the key in the ignition. "Lois?" Richard asked, now very concerned.

"We need to talk," she said.

"About what?"

"Jason."

"What about him?"

"It's just- Richard, you remember when we first started dating, how I had just come out of a relationship?"

"Yes, we both had. Why?"

"Well... do you remember how I told you that we had never... you know, had... that?"

"Yes..."

"Well... we did. About nine months before Jason was born."

"Wait... do you mean to say..."

"Yes."

"What? No- I mean- are you sure? I mean, premature birth perfectly accounts for all of Jason's problems-"

"I'm sure, Richard."

"How?" he asked, becoming visibly more upset. Lois hated to do this to him: he really was a good man. But he deserved to know. "How do you know?! There's still a good chance that I'm the father... isn't there?"

"No there isn't. I know, because..." Lois said, then paused, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. How could she do it? Where could she find the strength to shatter the heart of this wonderful man? To tear to shreds a heart that he had so selflessly poured out to a son that wasn't his. She just had to spit it out, to get it over with quickly, try to lessen the pain. She was mad-dog Lois Lane, Goddammit. If she could dive into the middle of firefights and face down megalomaniacs hell-bent on world domination, she could do this. She had to. "When we were on Luthor's yacht, he threw a piano."

Whatever Richard had been expecting to hear, that was obviously not it. He paused, opening and closing his mouth soundlessy. "... What?" he managed to choke out after a minute. "He- what?"

"He threw a piano, Richard. One that was bolted to the floor."

"But... then... that means... his father is..."

"Yes."

"Does- does he know?"

"Superman? Yes, he only just found out." When Richard did not respond, Lois continued. "He didn't know when he left, Richard, and neither did I. We both thought that it was impossible, that his DNA wasn't compatible with mine." He remained silent. "Richard, please, say something!"

"...You told me that you never loved him." Richard said quietly, his voice thick with hurt. Lois took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Richard. Really, I am," Lois said, and she meant it. Richard would not meet her eyes. He looked away from her, staring out the window. "You're still his father, Richard," she told him comfortingly, "Regardless of blood. You were the one who was there for him when he was growing up, the one who tucked him into bed at night and read him stories. You were his father then, and you always will be, no matter what." Richard looked up at her, managing a watery smile.

"Th-thank you, Lois. You have no idea how much that means to me."

They sat in silence. Tears brimming in her eyes, she twisted the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot. For a while, neither spoke, each lost in their own thoughts.

"When are we going to tell Jason?" Richard asked at last, still avoiding her gaze.

Lois blinked in surprise, not expecting him to bring that up already.

"I don't know. We'll have to tell him soon."

"Tonight?"

"Are you sure, Richard? You don't want any more time to adjust?"

"I don't know if I'll ever adjust, but you said that he threw a piano. He should know why he could do that."

"...Thank you, Richard."

"For what?"

"For still caring about Jason. For putting yourself aside for his good." The car came to a stop, and she leaned towards him, starting to kiss him, then stopped and turned away. It wasn't right to lead him on like this, when even she wasn't sure where her true affections lay. With a sigh, she turned her attention back to the road. They would be late for work, but she didn't care.

* * *

Clark scuffed his shoe against the carpet, seated nervously on the uncomfortable chair as he stared at the wall behind Perry's head, not really listening. His editor had just assigned him to work on the search for Luthor. With Lois. He wasn't really sure how he felt about that. On one hand, he didn't mind having a legitimate excuse to look into the Luthor's whereabouts, in a way that only Clark Kent, investigative reporter could do, and he enjoyed Lois' company. On the other hand, he would have to work side by side with the mother of his child, the woman he loved, unable to speak a word that was not dripping with the lies he claimed to never tell, unable to reveal everything, to truly be himself around her, to let down his guard as he so desperately wished to. He knew he would have to tell her eventually, of course. Now that he knew that Jason was his son, that the beautiful child that he saw around the office so often was the other that he had been looking for for so long... there was no way he could stay away. And contact with Jason meant contact with Lois. She deserved to know him, even if they would never be together, and, more importantly, he wanted her to know, but not yet. He would tell her when the time was right; when they knew where they stood and what to do; when he had built up the courage.

To his surprise, Lois did not seem as reluctant to work with him as he had expected. In fact, she had actually started to warm up to him, if only a bit. It wasn't quite like the old days, before he had gone on the fool's journey to Krypton, but it was getting there. Perhaps she too remembered how well they had worked together, or perhaps she was simply as glad for the excuse to look for Luthor as he was. Either way, the lack of protest did not bother Clark in the slightest.

"Hey, Smallville, you coming or what?" Lois asked, jolting Clark out of his thoughts.

"R-right," he said, tripping slightly as he stood and realizing that he hadn't the slightest idea what Perry had said after assigning them the story. Oops.

"Okay, Kent," Lois said brusquely, "Let's get started. You pull up everything we have on his past hide-outs, I'll go call up some contacts at the MPD. We'll collaborate at lunch and compare notes." Without waiting for Clark to respond, Lois ducked into her cubicle, flipping through one of her contacts folders. With a small reminiscent smile, he started to head to his desk when he heard Lois quietly whisper.

"S- Kal. I'm not really sure where you are, but if you- if you can hear me, we need to talk. Tonight. I'll be on the roof of the old B&W parking garage tonight at 8:00. Please, if you can hear me... we need to talk. About Jason."

He would have to don the Suit and speak with her tonight, then. He had been hoping to put off the conversation until Superman was officially back, but Lois clearly had ideas of her own. With a sigh, Clark signed onto the computer and began to pull files off the database. Yes, he and Lois did need to talk. After he spoke with someone else first, though...

* * *

Clark rapped on the old door tentatively. He was wearing a pair of old jeans and a faded flannel shirt, his glasses tucked into the front pocket. He had changed after he had left the Planet for the night. Simple, casual, comfortable. No pretenses were needed here.

Opening the door, he stepped just over the threshold. He could hear her heartbeat in the kitchen, a soothing, rhythmic thumping that spoke of life.

"Mom?" he called. Immediately, he heard a loud clattering as she dropped whatever she was working on and rushed out to meet him.

"Clark!" Martha Kent cried out in joy, her arms wrapping tightly around his chest. Clark returned the embrace, pulling his mother tightly to him. "Oh my God, Clark, I was so worried. I couldn't even get in to see you at the hospital and I just had to wait there to know whether or not my boy was going to live."

"It's okay, Mom. I'm here, I'm fine, I'm alive," Clark reassured her, feeling guilty. She had gone all the way to Metropolis, just to see him? He couldn't believe he hadn't known, hadn't seen her. Then again, he hadn't really noticed much after he had left the hospital: he had been far too focused on his newfound son. His mother squeezed him tightly, then pushed away.

"Don't you ever do that to me again, do you hear me? Never again."

Clark smiled. "I'll try, Mom."

"I mean it. I don't think I could take it."

"I'll do my best. So... can I come in?"

"Of course," Martha replied, ushering him in, "Do you want any tea?"

"Sure." Martha trotted into the kitchen, and Clark gingerly sat down on the sofa, a wide grin plastered on his face. After dealing with the mess with Lois, Jason, Richard, Luthor and New Krypton, it felt good to just relax and spend an afternoon in Smallville with his mother. Letting his eyes wander, he looked around - and through - the house, reflecting. It was here that he had grown up, here that he had discovered his abilities, supported by two loving, understanding parents who drilled good values and morality into him and taught him to use his powers properly.

His reverie was interrupted when his mother walked back in, carrying two steaming cups of tea. He accepted his gratefully, grasping the warm mug in large hands and taking a small sip. Chamomile. She sat down next to him, setting her own drink down on the table.

"How are you, Clark?" She asked. Clark shrugged.

"I'm... recovering. Feeling a lot better," he said evasively. It wasn't technically a lie- anything felt good compared to the agony of kryptonite. He had not come here to discuss his health. However, Martha knew him too well not to notice his vagueness.

"How are you really? Are you sleeping right? Eating right? Getting enough sun? What about the stab wound, has it healed yet?"

"I'm- wait, how did you know I was stabbed?"

"It was on the news, and you didn't answer my question."

Clark sighed. "I'm fine, Mom. I'm recovering well, healing at a normal rate-"

"Normal for you or normal for us?"

"Normal for you, but- I mean, it may even be healing faster than a normal human rate."

"So not normal for you?"

"I'm doing fine Mom. Look, I came here to talk to you about something-"

"Why hasn't it healed yet? Do you know?"

"Huh? I don't know, I guess there must be some kryptonite residue left, but-"

"Kryptonite residue?!"

"Look, Mom, I'm fine-"

"You keep saying that."

"Because I am!"

"You should go back to the hospital."

"WHAT?! No! Mom, I am not going back there-"

"If you still have kryptonite left in the wound, that's a serious problem, Clark."

"I can handle it."

"That stuff can kill you!"

"I'm FINE! I haven't collapsed from it, so there's obviously not enough to worry about. Look, Mom, this really isn't what I came here to talk to you about-"

"Just because you haven't had any obviously serious problems yet doesn't mean you won't. Clark, I really think-"

"You have a grandson," Clark blurted out in desperation. Martha Kent paused mid-sentence, stunned.

"W-what?" She managed to choke out. Clark took a deep breath and repeated.

"You have a grandson. It's- I mean-," he paused, then started again, "Y-you said you were at the hospital, right? Well, did you see Lois visit?'

"Yes, of course. With her- that's him?"

"Yes. His name is Jason, he just turned five."

"Five? Then..."

"Yes. She was pregnant when I left." He sighed and rubbed his temples. "I can't believe I didn't know. I mean, if I'd only said goodbye, then maybe-" he stopped and laughed humorlessly, "I wasted five years searching for someone else, someone like me, and here he was. All this time." Martha rested a hand on his arm comfortingly.

"You had no way of knowing, Clark. You told me that it wasn't even possible." She paused for a second. "Speaking of which, Clark, are you sure about this?"

"Yes. Now that I know what to look for, I can - I can see the similarities between us. His biology, his cells- he's definitely my son."

"How is it possible, then? Your DNA-"

"Must be similar enough to a human's for- for reproduction to occur, I guess."

"And does the mother, Lois Lane, know?"

"Yes. She was the one who told me."

"How long do you think she's known for, then?"

"I don't know. When she asked me, before we- before Jason was conceived, I said it wasn't possible – Jor-El had told me I would never have children of my own. Obviously he was wrong, but, I don't know how she figured it out."

"And how long have you known?"

"For a few days."

"What about Jason? Does he know?"

"I don't know for sure, but probably not."

"And have you told Lois?"

"About what?"

Martha rolled her eyes. "That Clark Kent is Superman?"

Clark shrugged, looking away. "No, not yet."

"And why not?"

"Well... it's complicated. Lo- She's engaged now, and the fiancé thinks he's the father. It's- this whole thing is just such a mess. I don't want to add to the problem until we get this sorted out."

"What sorted out?"

"Well, you know- this. Where we stand with each other, what my relationship with Jason will be, that stuff."

"But you will tell her?"

"Yes."

"Good. I want to meet my grandson." Martha said, picking up her tea and taking a sip. Clark smiled slightly, taking a drink from his own tea. "A grandmother should be able to spoil her grandchildren."

He stayed for a while longer, chatting, until, at last, he had to go. Bidding his mother farewell, he launched himself into the sky and flew back to Metropolis, basking in the last glimmers of sunlight that reached the Earth before night fell and sorely regretting that Metropolis was an hour ahead of Smallville. Perhaps he'd fly east later and catch some sun: Suited or not, he really did need to get more sunlight, he reflected as he flew. Pretty soon, he was back in his hotel room, slipping in quietly from the window that wasn't supposed to open (Clark would fix it once he got his own apartment, honest). Entering the combination into his briefcase, he popped it open gently. Inside lay several Suits, one still in need of reparation from his run-in with Luthor. Taking out one of the undamaged ones, he dressed and slipped out quietly, taking pains to ensure that he wasn't spotted. Superman was still not ready to make a comeback, and he wanted to make sure that he wasn't seen before he was.

* * *

Clark touched down on the ground softly. Lois was waiting for him, framed against the brilliant sunset over the towering skyscrapers. She was no longer wearing the business suit that she was earlier, instead opting for a pair of loose sweatpants and a worn, long-sleeved shirt, coupled with a pair of old tennis shoes. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, a few strands falling across her face.

"Kal," She said simply, noticing him. Under any other circumstances, Clark would have been thrilled to hear her call him by the familiar name, rather than "Superman", but now he felt himself longing to hear her call him by his real name, rather than one given to him by long-dead parents. Now he found it reminding him that she didn't really know him, know the friendly farm boy that he was instead of the not quite human alien or the untouchable savior. He really needed to tell her soon.

"Lois," he responded, walking over to stand in front of her. The air was thick with tension and awkwardness, neither of them really sure where they stood with the other. If the Suit had had pockets, he would've had his hands shoved deeply in them, but as it was, he contented himself with simply crossing his arms.

"We haven't seen you in a while," Lois began, breaking the silence, "How are you doing?"

"Better," he replied, "But I haven't recovered completely. I'm still not quite up to... my usual activities. I should be back soon." The formality was a painful reminder of everything that had happened between them, and he missed the easy dialogue that they had used to have. There was a lot about Lois that he missed.

"Could- Can I quote you on that? Everyone's wondering where you've disappeared to."

"If you want," he said. They were silent for a few moments, neither really wanting to bring up the elephant in the room, but both knowing what had to be said. "So..." he started, "How is Jason doing?"

Lois tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "He's... well."

Has he shown any signs of... my abilities?" Clark asked at last. Lois nodded.

"Yes. We were on- He threw a piano."

"Really? That's amazing! I-" he stopped, realizing the implications, "Is he okay? What happened? Was anyone hurt?"

"He's fine. He just-" She sighed, looking away. "I don't understand. I mean, he's always been so fragile, and you said it wasn't possible, so I never- never thought..." she trailed off, then said, "How is it even possible, anyways? You said..."

"I don't know," he said, shifting slightly, "I didn't think it was. I'm just so different, and I'm not exactly from here, it's- I never expected… The chances are... small. Infinitesimally so."

"He's had a lot of health problems. Asthma, allergies. Why?"

"I'm not entirely sure. When I visited him, I looked him over-"

"Looked him over? Oh, I see, the whole- vision stuff. X-ray and microscopic vision?"

"Yes. I looked him over, and his biological makeup is almost identical to mine, but his cells, they're absorbing solar energy at a much slower rate, and his reserves- they're almost empty. I can't figure it out."

"He needs sunlight? Of course he needs sunlight. He's your son, why wouldn't he need sunlight?" She rubber her temples and sighed quietly. "How much does he need?"

"Not much. At his age, about two or three hours a day, although if he doesn't get much one day he can make it up the next. No sunscreen, though: ultraviolet rays are one of the most important wavelengths. As he gets older, he'll need less unless he really exerts himself. If he's able to fly, he'll be able to get all he needs, and once he stops growing, then he won't need quite as much."

"... 3 hours a day? How in the world can you consider that 'not much'?"

"It should be easy to get, shouldn't it?" Comprehension dawned. While Clark had grown up on a farm, working outside every day in bright sunlight, Jason hadn't. He had been raised in the city, where towering skyscrapers shadowed every street, where parents drove their children everywhere and slathered their children with sunscreen before they went out to play, when indeed they played outside at all, instead of sitting inside watching TV and playing video games. "How much does he usually get?"

Chagrined, Lois stared at her feet, she, too, struck by the realization. "A half-hour a day outside, maybe. An hour to an hour and a half on nice days. With heavy sunscreen."

Clark blanched visibly. Half an hour? Clark knew that on Krypton, the others of his race would have gotten very little of the needed ultraviolet rays, but- a half an hour? His son was essentially starving to death, living in a constant state of malnutrition.

"Lois- this _has _to change. I-we don't just need sunlight for abilities, we need it to _survive_. His health, his immune system, his strength- it would explain all of Jason's health problems. With so little light, his body is using everything it can just to function, storing every ray of sunlight it can rather than turning it outwards, into abilities. He has no strength left for anything else. His immune system would be weakened, overburdened by the unfamiliar germs of Earth, put into hyper-sensitivity, which explains his allergies, his asthma." He looked her in the eyes. "Please Lois, promise me you'll get him into the sunlight more!"

Lois gasped, putting a hand over her mouth. "Oh my god- you're serious. I- I'm so sorry. I can't believe it. He was so fragile- I am- was always keeping him inside, applying sunscreen, trying to protect him."

Clark softened, realizing that he was being to hard on her. She had no way of knowing; it wasn't her fault. "It's okay, Lois, it can be fixed with time. Just get him in the sunlight more. Eventually, his body will adjust to the greater sunlight, and start to process more solar radiation, fill his reserves and his health will improve; his abilities will start developing."

"So, I just need to get him more sunlight, and he'll stop having these problems?"

"Yes, eventually. Give it a month or two and the allergies should fade completely, his speed, strength, invulnerability- they should all start to develop."

"And the asthma?"

"That's... harder to say. It'll fade with time, but I don't know how long it will take. Longer than the allergies, but it will fade." He watched her expression carefully, making sure she understood how important this was. She still looked upset, obviously still blaming herself. Clark decided it was time to change the subject. "So... does your - does Richard know? About Jason?"

"Yes. I just told him this morning."

"And Jason?"

"No, we're planning to tell him tonight."

"Do you want me to be there?"

"No, I think it'll be easier on him if just Richard and I tell him. He'll probably want to speak to you later though, so keep an ear out."

"Is that why you called me here?"

"Ah... no, that's not it." Lois hesitated. "I wanted to talk with you about something else."

"What?"

"We... have a problem. A big one," Lois started. Clark didn't really know how they could have a problem worse than what they were already facing, but he knew he wasn't going to like it. "Luthor knows about Jason."

"_What?!_" Clark half asked, half shouted.

"Luthor knows about Jason."

"Are you _sure_? Lois, this is a _serious_ issue. Are you absolutely sure?" His mind reeled, horrible visions of that monster threatening his son, using the innocent boy to get to him, to torment him, or revealing his son's identity to the world. No, he couldn't, wouldn't, allow that to happen. He would find Luthor, and- well, he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

"I'm almost positive. When Jason threw the piano- we were on Luthor's yacht. One of... one of Luthor's thugs was attacking me, and Jason... he saved my life." Clark was fairly certain that he did not want to know exactly what the piano had collided with. "And before that, Luthor was waving a piece of Kryptonite in Jason's face."

"Did Jason react to it?" If that madman had hurt his son, exposed him to the same overwhelming agony of the poisonous rock...

"I couldn't tell. He looked uncomfortable, but I'm not sure if it actually hurt him or if he was just scared." Lois looked up at him, and this time, it was Clark who averted his eyes. Luthor knew. Lex Luthor, the maniac who hated him beyond all else, the psychopath who had tried to kill him, the megalomaniac who had attempted to put into place schemes that would kill billions without a second thought or shred of remorse, now knew about Jason. It was right on the level with Luthor finding out that Clark Kent was Superman. It was bad. Really, really, really bad. He had to find Luthor, and he had to find him soon.

"I should go," he said at last, "I'm sure you need to get back to Jason." He stopped, looking at her sadly. He wanted to say so much more- to confess his identity, his love. To wrap her in his arms and never let her go. But he couldn't do that. She was happy with Richard. He was a good man, and a good father to Jason. Clark didn't know if he would ever be able to give them the sane, stable life that they had now and so sorely deserved, but Clark did know that his family was happy. He wouldn't do anything to take that away. Besides, Richard didn't deserve to lose them. Taking a deep breath, he turned his eyes away from her and looked upwards, lifting himself into the air. "Goodbye, Lois." He levitated into the air, gaining speed as he rose above the towering buildings of glass and steel, above the soft gray cotton of clouds, and headed East to take a sunbath and digest this new development before bed.

* * *

The cardboard shapes were light and flimsy, barely noticeable weights between his fingers. Jason clipped the two pieces together, not really thinking about the puzzle, but focusing more on how it looked. The surface of the piece was shiny, and it almost glowed under the bright light, but no matter what he did, it would not glow. Jason had never really understood why some things would glow the color and some thing wouldn't. At first, he thought that maybe it was only living things that glowed like that, but then he had seen the same glow around stove burners and TV's and computers and heaters and other things (although only sometimes, other times they wouldn't glow). But other things wouldn't glow like that, and it confused him. With most of the colors, Jason could understand why they looked like that: the sky looked blue because it was blue, unless it was night when it was black, or unless it was cloudy out, and plants were green because that's the way they were colored. Grass was never blue, and the sky was never green. Things weren't supposed to change their colors, and it was really annoying when objects would never decide whether to glow or not. And what was even worse was that Jason could never ask anyone why sometimes things would glow and sometimes they wouldn't, because Jason had pretty quickly learned that no one else could see the glow.

And like the glow wasn't bad enough, there were all those other annoying colors that no one else could see, but would almost blind him if he looked wrong. There were, for example, all those colors that he could see in the air, although most of the time he could look through those. Then there was the color of the sunlight, although he liked that color, because it made him feel good. Except, of course, the sunbeams also glowed that annoying color. There were a lot of colors that only Jason could see.

Jason really hated that he could see all the things that other people couldn't, because it made him feel weird. Jason didn't want to be weird: he wanted to be normal. He didn't want to constantly have to stop and take a puff on his inhaler. He didn't want to always have to be so careful about what he ate because of his allergies. He wanted not to sometimes be able to hear people's hearts and whispered conversations, he wanted not to see colors and details that no one else could, he wanted not to constantly rely on what other people said they saw or heard to describe his own experiences because he didn't want people to know he was different. And most of all, he really hated it when he would move too fast, or lift things that were too heavy for people to lift. That almost never happened, but when he did, he hated it, because it really scared him. Normally, it happened when he was outside, and no one else was around, so he could not tell anyone about it and hope that if he ignored it, then it'd go away like Mommy said his asthma and allergies would and he'd be normal. But when he'd been on the bald man's boat and the mean person had been hurting Mommy, he hadn't been able to just ignore it.

He hadn't meant to throw the piano, just like he hadn't meant to any of the other times, but the man had scared him and he was going to hurt Mommy and he couldn't breathe and so he had just pushed and it had flown away from him and into the man. Jason hoped that the man would be all right, because even if he had been a bad man, Jason didn't want to hurt anyone. But, most of all, Jason hoped that he'd never do that again, because he knew that it had been bad, and so bad that it had scared Mommy so much that she hadn't even talked about it. Jason hoped Mommy wasn't too mad at him.

"Jason?" He heard Mommy call, "Jason, can you come over here?" Dropping the puzzle piece, Jason walked over. Mommy and Daddy were both sitting on the couch, and their hearts were beating really fast, which was kind of annoying 'cause it made it real hard to concentrate. Jason stood in front of his parents, feeling kind of nervous 'cause they were kind of nervous and that made him feel antsy.

"Jason, would you sit down please?" Daddy said, "We need to talk to you." Jason obeyed, looking up at his parents expectantly. "Well, Jason, umm..."

"Jason, do you remember what happened on the bald man's boat?" Mommy asked hesitantly. Oh, no. They were going to talk about the piano. Without responding, Jason stood back up and began to walk back towards his puzzle. He wasn't going to discuss this.

"Jason?" His Daddy said, "Jason, sit back down." A strong hand grasped his arm, and Jason pulled away instinctively, throwing his weight down.

"Jason, it's okay. You're not in trouble. We just want to talk," Mommy said, standing up and walking over to him. Jason stopped struggling and looked down at the floor, avoiding his mother's gaze.

"I'm sorry," he sniffled, "I didn't mean to do it."

"Oh, Jason, honey," Mommy said, pulling him into a tight hug, "It's okay. It wasn't your fault. We're not mad. You saved Mommy's life." Jason wrapped his arms around her, burrowing his face into her neck and allowing himself to be lifted off the ground. His mother sat down on the couch, rubbing one hand up and down his back.

"Jason?" Daddy asked, "Do you know why you were able to throw the piano?"

Jason shook his head as well as he could. "No."

"Well..." Mommy began. Jason could feel her throat vibrating as she spoke. It kind of tickled. "Remember Maria at school, and how she has two Daddies and a Mommy? A biological one and another one? Well, you're kind of like that. You have two Daddies too. Richard is your Daddy, but your biological Daddy is Superman." Jason looked up at his Mommy, confused.

"So Richard isn't my Daddy?"

"No, Jason, Richard is your Daddy, but he's not your biological Daddy."

"What does biological mean?"

"Well, it's kind of confusing. It means that you'll be like Superman."

"Really?"

"Yes. That's why you could throw the piano."

"So Richard is my Daddy?"

"Yes."

"But so is Superman?"

"Yes."

"... I'm still confused." His face scrunched up in thought.

"I know, Jason, but it'll make sense eventually," his Daddy said, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Jason?" Mommy asked, "This has to be our secret, okay? You can't tell anyone about this. Do you understand? Not any of your friends, not any of Mommy and Daddy's friends, not even Uncle Perry or Aunt Lucy or your grandparents. No one but Mommy, Daddy and Superman can know about this."

"Why not?"

"Because if you tell people then bad men might find out and try to hurt you."

"Like the bald man?"

"Yes, like the bald man."

Jason buried his head in his mother's neck again. "Mommy I don't want the bad men to hurt me! I'm scared!"

"Oh, no, Jason," Daddy said, "No, it's okay. As long as you don't tell anyone, there's no problem."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Really really?"

"Really really."

"Okay." Jason let go of his Mommy. "Can I go back to my puzzle now?" His parents looked at each other, but Jason didn't really know why.

"Sure, kiddo, of course you can," his Daddy said. So Jason did.


	5. Father Son Bonding

A/N: Okay, this chapter is posted a tad earlier than I though, as I decided to forgo the beta-ing because I'm an impatient child. ;) Thanks anyways to my hard-working beta, DragonFlame.

* * *

Lois and Richard had not slept in the same bed last night. It hadn't even been intentional- she had been doing some last minute work when Richard had gone to bed, and had just sort of... drifted off on the couch. But intentional or not, it had still been a painful reminder of the tension between them. Oh sure, they had tried to hide it, from both themselves and others. They smiled at each other, exchanged kisses in greeting and farewell, and talked with civility, even when no one was around. Since the conversation with Jason last night, they had made no mention of his biological father, or his parentage in general. But the strain was still there, eating away at them both. Lois felt horrible. She felt like she and Richard were drifting apart, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Did she even want to stop it? Did she still want to wake up every morning next to Richard White? Did she want to walk down the altar with the man she had been engaged to for years, who had raised Jason- and continued to raise Jason- as if he were Richard's own son? Did she want to end it with the man, to tear apart the stable family that she had built for herself and Jason? Did she want to stay with him, haunted every day by the knowledge that she was leading him on; that she loved him far less than he deserved? Lois didn't know what she wanted. She didn't know what to do.

With a groan of frustration, she pushed up her reading glasses and tried in vain to rub the exhaustion and dryness from her eyes. She really wanted- no, needed- a cigarette. Snatching up her purse, Lois wrenched it open and ransacked it, groping frantically for a nicotine patch, or some gum, or something, anything, to take the edge off. When, after turning the unfortunate bag inside-out, she found nothing, she tossed the purse away, swore under her breath and placed her head in her hands, screaming quietly into them.

"A-are you okay, Lois?" asked a voice behind her. Lois jumped slightly, and whipped around to face the source of the inquiry. It was Clark Kent, holding a cup of coffee in each hand and looking at her with concern. Lois forced herself to smile at him.

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine, just... a little tired. I... didn't sleep very well last night. My eyes are really dry, and I'm just- totally spent, a bit frustrated, you know the story." She couldn't tell whether Clark had bought it or not, but was nonetheless grateful that he did not push the subject.

"Well, here." He offered one of the cups to her. "S-something to wake you up. Mocha cappuccino with artificial sweetener, non-dairy creamer, right?"

Lois could have hugged the man. She gratefully accepted the proffered beverage, taking several large gulps and closing her eyes as the warmth spread through her body. Chocolate and caffeine. Nectar and ambrosia. Almost made up for the nicotine withdrawal. "Ohmigod, Clark, thank you sooo much," she breathed, a genuine expression of contentment touching her lips.

Clark beamed at her. "No problem." He pulled out a chair and sat down gingerly, wincing slightly.

"You all right?"

"I'm fine," he said quickly, then cleared his throat. "So, uh- Richard tells me that you went- that you became a vegetarian while I was on my trip."

"If the next words that come out of your mouth are 'I told you so', then so help me, Farmboy, I'm going to have to kill you."

"Well, you could do that, but then there'd be no one to bring you coffee." He grinned, taking a sip of his own drink. Lois blinked, then laughed.

"Cute, Kent. Real cute."

"Seriously, though, I'm really glad to hear that. I don't exactly meet many other vegetarians, so it's always nice to- you know..." he trailed off. Starting again, he quickly changed the subject to their assignment. "Ah... So... Here's what I've got- what I have- so far. Apparently, Luthor married one Gertrude Vanderworth, an old, rich widow, just after he got out of prison. She died recently, and he inherited her entire fortune, which was considerable. Since the- you know- the thing with New Krypton, his funds have been frozen, but apparently he managed to channel large amounts of money into other accounts, so that's still a lot of money, meaning that if he's alive, he definitely has the money to try s-something else. Um- he got his yacht, the Gertrude, from Ms. Vanderworth, along with a large mansion, which- inside which- authorities found a ruined train set with what they think are Kryptonian crystals growing. They've confiscated them all for further research. Er... Luthor's past hideouts have either been underground and lead lined, or seaborne, like that- the place he was hiding when- I mean- shortly before he tried to destroy the San Andreas fault, or the Gertrude. If he's alive, he'll definitely be going for a place that's either lead-lined or easily lead lined. I've already pulled up a map with locations of buildings that have lead lining, and some information on large lead purchases in th-the past few days. I just need to print them out. And what do you have so far?"

"Well-" Lois pulled out some papers, shuffling through them, "To start, Luthor is definitely" unfortunately "alive. I managed to worm some information out of a contact at the Coast Guard. They recently found two young newlyweds, one Moe and Sally Steinberg, stranded on a small island. According to them, they stopped to investigate a flare, and had their boat stolen by two people fitting the description of Katherine Kowalski and Lex Luthor. In addition, they found a wrecked helicopter registered to one Gertrude Vanderworth. (We're not allowed to print this yet, though- they don't want people to worry.)"

"Since when has that stopped you, Lois?"

She laughed slightly. "It hasn't, but I had to promise that I'd wait to print it for them to tell me what was going on. So, they don't have anything yet on his whereabouts, but given the speed of the boat they stole and the distance from the coast, they're either near shore or on land already. He's probably had contact with his henchmen, too, so he's probably been able to get either some lead or a lead lined hideout, so we'll definitely be checking out your list."

"He'll probably want some place that's relatively hidden, but he'll also probably want to be near the ocean. Chances are, he'll want to try and find any fragments of N-New Krypton that may have fallen into the ocean, especially ones that are laced with K-Kryptonite." Kent grimaced slightly at the last word, and Lois couldn't blame him. The thought of what the horrible material could to to Superman (Kal? Kal-El? Mr. El? Lois wasn't really sure what to call him now)- and possibly Jason, although Kent didn't know that- was terrifying.

"Did any of New Krypton fall into the ocean?"

"I... don't know. T-the island was pretty big, and it's possible that some of it fell off while Superman was lifting it, but I really don't know. But Luthor will probably assume that some did, so he'll need a lot of diving equipment and stuff like that."

"Right. So..." Lois said, pushing her notes away, "Do you want to take the possible hideouts or diving equipment records?"

"Hideouts."

"Okay then, diving equipment it is for me." They split up, and got to work.

* * *

Clark smoothed the crumpled paper with one hand, weighing it down with the other as he struggled to juggle a highlighting pen, a map of all known lead-lined buildings in the New Troy area, a list of large lead purchases made in the last three days, a cup of coffee, and the telephone receiver, all without aggravating his back.

"Okay, so the DGP warehouse is definitely abandoned?" Clark asked, his pen hovering over the chart.

"Yes, Mr. Kent," said the man on the other end of the line, his voice full of irritation. Clearly, he did not like reporters.

"Okay," Clark said, circling the location, "Th-thank you, sir," he said, but the man had already hung up. Well, there was civility for you. Still, he had, at the very least, gotten an answer. Yet another building could be used as a safe house for Lex Luthor. Clark had never realized just how many lead lined buildings there were in New Troy. Lovely. He'd have to look into them in more detail later- no doubt there were many criminals that were already frantically snapping at those properties in an attempt to hide their operations from him. Damn bomb scares.

Ordinarily, Clark was not a man who used obscenities to describe anything, but his current assignment was very frustrating. When he had volunteered to be the one who looked into possible safe houses for Luthor, he had done so because he thought that, between he and Lois, he would be the one most qualified to judge where Lex Luthor would and wouldn't choose to hide. So far, out of every 10 buildings, roughly 6 of them had been a definite possibility. Perhaps New Troy simply was that full of criminal safe havens. Perhaps he was simply too tired to think. Either way, he would very much have loved to go over the possibilities with his partner, but she had gone to pick up Jason a while ago, since Richard was out dealing with some duty as Assistant Editor. At the very least, she would be back soon. With Jason. Even though Clark would not be able to interact with his son in quite the way he wanted, he would still get to see him.

Abandoning the papers in front of him, Clark cast his gaze towards the window, savoring the few brilliant rays that peeked in through the glass. The first nice day since he left the hospital, and he was stuck inside, poring over information in an attempt to track down the madman who had nearly killed him. He had lectured Lois about the amount of sun Jason was getting, but his reserves were running dangerously low themselves. Perhaps he would take a walk or something after he got off work, he thought as he looked longingly up at the cerulean sky. Or something.

The elevator "dinged" softly, and Clark glanced over as the door opened to reveal his two favorite people: Lois and Jason. He couldn't help but smile. He waved slightly at Lois as she and Jason walked over.

"Hey Lois. Hiya, Jason."

"Hi, Clark." With a quick glance at Jason, she asked, "Hey, Smallville, you know, it's such a nice day out- how about we take Jason and work on the story in the park?"

Oh, good God, yes. "Sure, that sounds- swell."

* * *

Clark and Lois were sitting at a picnic table, papers strewn haphazardly across the wooden surface. Lois was alternatively talking with Clark and glancing at Jason or calling to him to take it easy. The boy was playing happily on the equipment, pausing occasionally to catch his breath, but thankfully, he had not yet had to take a puff of his inhaler. Clark was feeling absolutely wonderful right now. The air was about as clean as it got in Metropolis, the sun was shining brightly down on him, replenishing his batteries and banishing the pain of his back, and he was spending time with the woman he loved and their son. Maybe it wasn't as good as it got, but it was still the best Clark had felt in days.

"So," Lois said, shuffling papers, "there have been five major purchases of diving equipment and the like in New Troy within the past two days. We've got one by BMN incorporated, which is a subset of Wayne Enterprises. We have two by some environmental organizations, Defenders of Mankind and the VanGuards of Environmental Rights, we have one by Prometheus Technologies, and one by DF Marine Research."

"Well, we can pretty much rule out Wayne Industries. It's too big, and has no ties to Luthor. But, I don't really know much about the other four."

"Well, let's see.. Defenders of Mankind is some new charity. Real focused on the importance of environmental health to the health of the human race, or some line like that. Non-profit, gets its funding from a few rich tree-huggers and other various donations. Focuses on clean-up efforts. The VanGuards of Environmental Rights is more radical. It pushes hard for higher pollution regulations, making companies clean up their messes, stuff like that. Had a couple of people arrested for blowing up "offending businesses". They've sued a lot of companies for damage to the ecology, too. Also have an entire branch dedicated to protecting endangered species from poachers. Ah... Prometheus Technologies is some new lab. It's pretty big for its age, though. Site says they're currently researching nanotechnology, cybernetics, data storage, et cetera. DF Marine Research mainly tracks changes in the ocean climate and how if affects the sea life. Stuff like that."

"And they all purchased equipment that- that could be used to salvage pieces of New Krypton?"

"Yes, definitely. In fact, that's probably what they're all doing. The environmental groups would want to clean up the water -who knows what that radiation could do to it?-, Prometheus Technologies would want to try and get their hands on alien technology, and DF Marine Research would want to see what effects it would have on the ocean, so they'd want to get samples of it."

"That does-doesn't really help to narrow it down," Clark said, "Luthor could be behind any of them, or none at all."

"What about your end? Have any of these companies purchased any possible safe havens or large amounts of lead?"

"Nothing suspicious, no."

"Damn it. Okay, which ones are-" she was cut off by a loud ringing. Shifting around, Lois grabbed her purse, pulled out her phone and flipped it open. "It's Richard," she said, pressing the talk button. "Hi, Richard!"

Clark looked away, focusing on Jason and trying to shut out her conversation.

He failed.

"Hey, Lois, I have a small problem..."

"What?" Lois asked.

"I was downtown, and I stopped to grab a bite to eat before heading back to the Planet, and I must have left my wallet somewhere, because now I can't find it and I can't afford a cab back."

"And you can't just get some cash from an ATM or something?"

"I can't find one. This isn't exactly the nicest part of town... Could you please pick me up?"

"sigh Okay, fine, I'll come get you."

"Thanks, sweetie. I love you."

"I... I- love you too."

"Bye."

"Bye." With a loud sigh, Lois hung up, shoving her phone back in her purse.

"What did R-he want?" Clark asked.

"It's-" Lois was looking at Jason, appearing to argue with herself, "Richard lost his wallet and now he's stranded downtown. He needs me to pick him up."

"Oh."

"Umm..." Lois began, her eyes darting between Jason and Clark, "Hey, Clark, could you do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Could you watch Jason for me? I mean, he's having so much fun, I'd hate to interrupt him, and I'll only be gone for a few minutes-"

"S-sure, if you want," Clark replied, not minding the opportunity to interact with his son in the slightest.

"Thank you so much, Clark. I really owe you one. Jason!" Lois called. The boy came running over.

"What?"

Kneeling down to be face to face with the child, she said, "Jason, I have to go pick up Daddy, so you're going to stay here with Mr. Kent, okay?"

Jason nodded. "Okay."

"Be good for Mr. Kent," she said, then pulled him into a tight hug, "See ya, munchkin. I'll be right back."

"Bye, Mommy."

Ruffling his hair, Lois stood up and grabber her purse, "Keep a close eye on him. If he has trouble breathing, make sure he uses his inhaler. Here, I should probably give you a spare, in case he needs it," she said, rummaging in her purse and pulling one out, pressing it into his hand, "He knows how to use it, so you should be fine. If the inhaler doesn't help, then get him to the hospital right away and call me to let me know, okay?"

"All right."

"Bye Clark!"

"Bye Lois." Clark responded, watching her jog away. Tearing his eyes away, he looked at Jason. "Well, it looks like it's just you and me." The boy nodded, glancing at the papers on the table.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, y-your mother and I are working on, ah... an assignment."

"Oh." His gaze switched from the table to Clark. "Mr. Clark?"

"Yes?"

"How're you feeling?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, I'm fine, thanks."

"I'm glad you're feeling better now. Mommy says you weren't feeling very good at the hospital."

"Well, I'm feeling bett- wait, hospital?" Oh, no. He didn't. He couldn't have...

"Uh-huh. Mommy and I went to visit you after you fell lifting the big island into space."

"Ah," casting a quick glance around to make sure no one was listening, he carefully crouched down to Jason's level. "Jason, what makes you think I'm Superman?"

Jason looked confused. "'Cuz you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah you are."

"I'm really not."

"You are too!"

"I am not."

"Yes, you are!" the boy said, crossing his arms and lifting his chin in a stance reminiscent of his mother, "You look just like Superman, and you're never around when he is. Besides, you glow different from most people." ...Glow different? Oh, of course. Clark's body temperature was higher than the average human, and he absorbed a lot of ultraviolet, so if Jason could see that, he'd look a lot different than a normal person.

With a sigh, Clark conceded Jason's point. "Okay, Jason, yes, I am Superman, but it's a secret, okay? You can't tell anyone about this."

"Not even Mommy and Daddy?"

"Not even Mommy and Daddy."

"But how can people not know you're Superman? 'Cept for the glasses, you look just like him."

"Well, most people don't think that Superman has a secret identity, because he doesn't wear a mask. And even if people did, they wouldn't think that I'm Superman, because most people don't notice me when I'm dressed like this."

"Oh."

"And you promise you won't tell anyone about this?"

"I promise."

"And if I'm wearing glasses, and someone else is around, you need to call me Clark or Mr. Kent, and if I'm wearing my red and blue suit and someone else is around, you need to call me Superman, okay?"

"Okay."

"Thank you."

They were silent for a few moments, then Jason asked, "Mr. Clark? What's that color?"

"Which color?"

"That one! The glowy one."

"Which glowy one?"

"The one around the people!"

"You mean the color that I... glow more?"

"Uh-huh."

"That's infrared."

"In-fuh-red?"

"In-fruh-red."

"In-fruh-red."

"Yes."

"And what about that one? The sunshine color?"

"That's ultraviolet."

"Ul-truh-vi-lit?"

"Close enough."

"What about that one?"

"That's infrared, too."

"But it looks different."

"Well... there are a lot of different colors of infrared, like there are different colors of the light most people can see." When Jason still looked confused, Clark continued, "Well, you see, infrared is basically heat. So if something is hot, it is infrared. But some things are a lot hotter than others, so they're different colors of infrared."

"Oh. Okay." Then, after a moment, "What color is that?"

* * *

There were a whole lot of colors in the electromagnetic spectrum. He wasn't really sure how long he and Jason had talked, but they must have spent a good ten minutes doing nothing but naming every single different color. And there were still wavelengths that weren't even present in the park. Still, although it had started to get old after a while, he was still thrilled to finally have someone to share his experiences with. Colors were so much more beautiful when you weren't the only one who could see them. At last, after naming just about every shade of every different wavelength within sight, he was sure that Jason had run out of questions.

Yeah, right.

"Mr. Clark?"

"Yes, Jason?"

"How can both you and Daddy be my father? Mommy and Daddy tried to explain it to me, but it was real confusing."

"Oh." Okay, how did he answer this? Thinking back to when his parents had first told him he was adopted, he continued, "Well, ah, sometimes people will have more than one Mommy or Daddy. Actually, you're kind of like me. I had two Daddies, and two Mommies, too."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh. You see, when I was just a little baby, my biological- do you know what biological means?"

"Yep."

"Well, my biological parents were from the planet Krypton, like me."

"You're from another planet?"

"Yes. The planet Krypton. When I was born, the planet was going to explode. My Mommy and Daddy knew that the planet would explode, but no one would believe them."

"Why not?"

"Well, people's lives would change if the planet exploded, and a lot of bad things would happen. People didn't want to think that it would happen, so they refused to believe my Daddy. So, my parents knew the planet would explode, but since no one would believe them, they couldn't save all the people. They wanted to build a rocket that would take all of us to safety, but they only had enough time to build a tiny rocket, only big enough for me. So they sent me away from Krypton, here to planet Earth. I was still really young when I arrived, only half your age, and my adopted- do you know what adopted means?"

"Yep."

"My adopted parents saw my spaceship crash in a field, and they went to see what happened, and they found me and adopted me. So my Mommy and Daddy on Krypton were my biological parents, and if it weren't for them, I wouldn't have been born, but it was my adopted Mommy and Daddy who raised me. So they're both my parents."

"If you're from another planet, does that make you an alien?"

"... Yes, it does."

"If you're my Daddy, and you're an alien, does that make me an alien?" Jason asked. Clark paused, not really knowing how to answer.

"Umm... I'm not really sure. Probably not, since you were born here."

"Oh. So can I meet your adopted parents?"

"Ah... you can meet my Mommy, but not yet."

"Why?"

"Well, because your Mommy doesn't know I'm Superman, and she doesn't know that I have an adopted Mommy, so until I tell her, you probably can't meet her."

"What about your adopted Daddy? Can I meet him?"

"...No."

"Why not?"

"Because he's, um, in heaven."

"Like my Grandma Ellen?"

"Yes."

"Why were you gone for five years?"

"Well... that's kind of complicated. You see, when I left, astronomers- those are people who study the stars- thought that they found my home planet, Krypton. I thought that maybe there were other people like me left, and I was kind of lonely, so I went to see if anyone was left."

"Was there?"

"... No."

"Why do you wear tights and a cape?"

"Well, Jason, I have to wear skin-tight clothing, because it has to be close to my skin so that it doesn't get ruined when I do Superman stuff. I have a cape because I can use the cape to protect people when I fly them somewhere."

"Why is it red and blue?"

"Because red and blue are really bright colors, so people can see me."

"Does the 's' stand for Superman?"

"Oh, it's not an 's'. It's the family crest of the house of El."

"What the house of L?"

"It's kind of like a last name for humans. Your Mommy is Lois Lane, and Lane is her family name. My biological Daddy was named Jor-El. Jor was like his first name, and El was his last name. The 's' is a symbol for my family."

"Your biological Daddy was named Jor-El? What was your biological Mommy's name?"

"Lara."

"So her first name was 'La', and her house was 'Ra'?"

"Ah, no. Kryptonian women didn't have house names, they took their father's full name as their last name. So my Mommy's name was Lara Lor-Van."

"Do you have a name like that?"

"Yes. Kal-El."

"So your first name is Kal and your last name is El?"

"Yes."

"Then how come you're called Clark Kent?"

"Well, Clark Kent is what my adopted parents named me. It was the name I grew up with, so it's my real name, but Kal-El is my Kryptonian name."

"Can I have a Kryptonian name too?"

Clark blinked in surprise. He hadn't even thought about that. "Uh, sure." Clark said, glad that Jason was taking an interest in his Kryptonian heritage. "Just- give me some time to think of one."

"Okay. What's your adopted parent's names?"

"Martha and Jonathan Kent."

"How old were you when you learned to fly?"

"I was twelve."

"Will I be able to fly, too?"

"Probably."

"Do I have to wait until I'm twelve?"

"Probably."

"Aww," Jason pouted, "Will you take my flying sometime?"

"Sure."

"Can you take me flying now?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because there are people around and because your Mommy will be back soon."

"How old were you when you learned your heat vision stuff?"

"Well- how about we just go over them all? I was about three years old when I started to develop my strength, speed , invulnerability and hearing, although those got stronger as I grew older. I was about six or seven when I started to develop my super-breath, I was about ten when I started to develop my heat and x-ray vision, and I was twelve when I learned to fly, as you know."

"How come I don't have any of those things all the time? I only sometimes have speed or strength, but if I'm your son, then shouldn't I already have those?"

"Ah, yes, but Jason, you see, I get my abilities from the sun, and since you don't really get that much sun without sunscreen, you don't have my abilities yet."

"But I will?"

"Yes."

"Do bullets hurt when they hit you? I don't really think I'd like it if bullets hit me, even if I was in-vul-na-ble."

"No, they don't."

"Does anything hurt you?"

"Yes. This nasty green rock called "kryptonite" makes me sick." Remembering what Lois had said when they talked last night, he asked, "Jason, when you were on the bald man's boat, he had Kryptonite. Do you remember how you felt?"

"You mean the glowy green tube? I never saw the color that it glowed before. What was that color?"

"Ah, never mind, Jason. Do you remember how you felt when you were around it?"

"I felt kind of hurty, but I didn't want to say anything 'cause the bald man was scaring me. Does that mean the krip-toe-night hurts me too?"

Clark frowned slightly, dismayed that his son could, indeed, be hurt by the material. "Yes, it does. Jason, if you ever see the rock again, you need to run away as fast as you can, or else you could be hurt real bad, okay?"

"Okay. Why does it hurt people like you and me?"

"Well, you know how we need the sun for our abilities? We also kind of need the sun for food."

"Like plants?"

"Kind of. But when people like us are exposed to kryptonite, we absorb it like sunlight, except it's not sunlight, so when our body tries to make it into food, we use up stored energy, which makes us hurt." (A/N It's a very simplified explanation, people, don't jump on me about it until you hear the full one.)

"Why does the bald man hate you, Mr. Clark?"

"Well, he hates me because he's a bad man, and he tries to do bad things, but I stop him from doing bad things, and he doesn't like that."

"If you won't take my flying now, then will you push me on the swings? I like swinging, 'cause it's kinda like flying, and sometimes your stomach feels all funny when you swing, and that's kind of neat."

Clark smiled at his son. "Sure."


	6. Crystalline

A/N: Okay, everyone who thought that Clark's stuttering was over-the-top last chapter, please, raise your hand. sighs as she sees the forest of arms jutting into the air Yeah, I thought so. Sorry about that, people: my beta was on vacation, so I had no feedback but my own on that. I have now fixed it, and I swear that I will try to make the character's speech patterns more realistic and proper in the future. I am so, so sorry for any headaches caused by trying to sort through that.

This was, quite possibly, the MOST irritating chapter to write in the history of writing chapters. I had such a bad case of writer's block that it wasn't funny, due to the sudden realization that I had no idea how to fill the space between two plot points. facepalms So, this chapter is essentially filler, and SHORT filler at that. Chapter after next (Next chapter is more of a transition chapter than actual events, I'm afraid), I'll try to do better.

And, on another note, to you lurkers: Supes and Jason get their power from the sun. We writers get our power from reviews. So, if you don't review, I may soon develop asthma. :P

Many thanks to my wonderful beta DragonFlame.

* * *

The air around him was cold as ice, but the temperature did not bother him. And yet it did. Clark's breath clouded in front of his face as he looked around at the massive crystalline structure. It shouldn't have been so cold in here. The climate control system should have automatically kept this at a temperature more acceptable to humans.

A sense of unease growing in his chest, he walked over to the operating panel, looking at the empty crystal slots. When he had first discovered the crystals missing a week or so ago, he hadn't really looked too closely. He had been too full of shock and anger at the theft of his heritage to bother inspecting it. Now that he saw the panel, however, he realized that it wasn't as bad as he had thought.

It was worse.

Luthor had not stolen all of the crystals, but he had stolen the most important ones. He had taken the operating crystals, which were quite literaslly the "operating system" of the Fortress, gone as well was the father crystal which would have given him hope of restoring the operating crystals. Remaining was the crystals that held the collection of knowledge of the 28 explored galaxies. It was almost as if Luthor was trying to taunt him even now. Dangling it right in front of his nose, just out of reach... Once again, Luthor had twisted the knife in his back, although this time less literally and more painfully. Luthor had taken his history. Luthor had taken Jason's inheritance. Luthor had taken his father. It was as if the madman had ripped out a part of his heart.

As if he didn't have enough reasons to find him already.

He had been hoping to take Jason here when he got the opportunity, but now... it seemed pointless. This place was now no more than a travesty; a pathetic mockery of what the Fortress had been; a hollow shell of the former majestic structure.

Blinking back tears, Clark turned to go. The Fortress was dead.

* * *

The dismal surface of the crystal mass had been turned into a brilliant display of lights. The columns were glowing, the flashes of signals flitting around with the speed of lightning. Gone were the broken crystalline shards, the toppled towers and the scattered debris. The small satellite had been transformed into a hub of data; a base of operations for the alien intelligence currently possessing it.

BrainIAC was originally from Krypton, where it had served as the supercomputer responsible for Krypton's day to day operations. However, shortly before the planet had been destroyed, it had downloaded itself to a small craft, along with all the records of Krypton that it had had the space for. The scientist, Jor-El had known that it was saving itself rather than the planet for a while before Krypton's destruction, but his knowledge proved to be of little consequence, as he had failed once more to convince the council of his discoveries. BrainIAC had escaped Krypton's fate, and clearly, so had other examples of Kryptonian technology.

If it could have had emotions, it would have been amazed by the vast amounts of information that it was currently receiving and processing from the active planet it was observing and the crystals on this landmass's surface. As it was, BrainIAC found it fascinating. Although it had barely begun to sort through the data, and would likely take a while longer to analyze and store it all, it had already found many interesting things.

The most fascinating things it had found so far were the crystals that were laying on the surface of this strange landmass. It had only read and copied perhaps a third of the files, but the information that it received was... unexpected. So, Jor-El had sent his son to, of all places, a primitive planet billions of light years away from Krypton, and, if the tales of this "Superman" that it continually came across were any indication, the infant had survived. The last Kryptonian. He could be useful.

It had found signs of Kryptonian technology scattered throughout one of the major bodies of water of the planet it was observing, a few small samples in several concentrated areas along the east coast of a large northern continent- a continent packed with power consumption and terabytes and terabytes of information, and a garbled, stronger signal was being emitted from a location on the planet's north pole. It had no use for these at this time, but it filed the information away for later use.

The landmass on which BrainIAC had landed was fascinating. Made purely of Kryptonian crystals, mostly blank data storage ones, the mass was a very crude facsimile of a Kryptonian city. However, BrainIAC was almost pleased with the sheer amount of storage space that it gave it. Another curious trait was the numerous veins of an unknown element that ran through it. The substance gave off a high-intensity radiation that, if harnessed, had infinite potential. Yes, this would make a very nice base of operations.

It continued to sort through the information from the planet below, storing the data of interest and purging the rest from its temporary files. It came across an intriguing term, and begun to search for more information on it. And the more it found, the more it wanted to know. It could have use for these "meta-humans".

* * *

I'm actually an Atheist, but... thank God that's over. Please R&R! 


	7. Day Shatters

Lois took a deep breath of the cool morning air, closing her eyes and savoring the gentle breeze and the scent of the river. She was so tired; it was at least an hour earlier than she normally got up. Somewhere around 5:00 AM she had woken up with yet another massive nicotine craving, and finally, she was giving in.

She stared at the pack in her hand. _I really shouldn't be doing this,_ she thought as she pulled a cigarette out of the box. _It's a nasty, filthy habit. _She placed the cigarette between her lips and flipped the lid of her lighter open. _It's bad for Jason's asthma. _She fiddled with the wheel, debating. She knew full well that smoking was harmful to both her and her family, but... it was only one... and her body had been absolutely _screaming _for one for days now... and she had been going through so much lately... and she'd be sure to wash the smoke from her hair and robe... she really did deserve just _one_. Just one, and then no more. Honest.

She lit it. Lois took a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing her eyes in relief as the nicotine flooded her body. Oh, God. It was so bad for her, but it felt so _good. _She slipped the carton and lighter into a pocket on her robe and walked over to the riverbank, stepping out of her slippers and walking barefoot on the cold, damp soil. She stopped by the water, her feet just close enough to the edge to be splashed by the water. She could see the faint image of herself in the rippling mirror, the butt of her cigarette glowing like a tiny ember. She remembered the last time she had seen her reflection in this river, just before all hell had broken loose. She'd been Indulging in a quiet flight with the father of her child, a man about whom she still didn't know how she felt. And now, here she was, perhaps a week later, stealing away in the wee hours of morning to sneak a fix of slow, carcinogenic death.

God, she was pathetic. The moment her life started to get complicated, there she went, running to the crutch of her nicotine-laden coffin nails. She was supposed to be stronger than this, damn it.

Mad-dog Lane indeed. She dropped the still-smoldering stub of her cigarette into the river in disgust. For a few moments, she watched it float, bobbing up and down as it slowly became saturated, then turned away. With a sigh, she headed back towards the house, her slippers in hand. The lights were on in the kitchen, she realized in dismay. She must have woken up Richard. Now he was probably waiting for her, ready to lecture her. Damn it.

And indeed, she was right. There he was, leaning against the counter, wearing the satin pajamas his mother had gotten him, with tousled hair and dark circles under his eyes. Lovely. He noticed her approaching and stood, striding towards the door. Lois slid it open and stepped in, tossing her slippers aside and closing it behind her.

"Lois-" he began, but she wouldn't have it.

"I don't want to hear it," she said, brushing past him. Unsurprisingly, he caught her arm, swinging her around to face him.

"Well you will anyways. Lois, you're trying to quit-"

"I was just taking a walk, Richard."

"Like hell! You were smoking. I can smell it. Lois, you _know_ it aggravates Jason's asthma-"

"It was just one cigarette."

"Yeah, right. And it'll be 'just one' after that, and 'just one more' after _that_!"

"Well, I think I deserve 'just one' right now!"

"Oh, of course! Yes, with all _you're_ going through! Well you know what, I'm going through a lot worse, and you don't see _me_ lighting up one of those cancer sticks!"

"Well, excuse me! I mean, sure, you've been through so much! After all, it's not like you've been kidnapped, nearly killed, attacked, knocked out, or had your whole life turned upside down! All _you've "_been through" is finding out that Jason isn't your son, which, by the way, came as a shock for me too!"

"_All_ I've been through? Excuse me?! I nearly lost you and Jason! I nearly died! And I think that finding out that the boy you've been raising for _years_ isn't yours is a pretty big deal!"

"Mommy? Daddy?" came a quiet, groggy voice. Both Richard and Lois whipped around to see Jason, clad in his Aquaman PJ's, rubbing his eyes sleepily and yawning. "Is everything all right?"

Lois sighed and ran a hand through her hair, her adrenaline fleeing like a startled bird and leaving only exhaustion and chagrin. "Everything's fine, sweetie."

"Were you two fighting?"

"No, munchkin, we were just - talking," Richard said.

"You were talking pretty loud."

"Come on kiddo, back to bed," she said, walking over and scooping him up, "Sorry we woke you up."

Richard was unable to fall back asleep. Lois did not even return to their bed.

* * *

_He couldn't breathe. The water enshrouded him, enveloping him in its icy death. He thrashed madly against the choking liquid, sinking deeper and deeper into the depths._

"_No!" he cried out, the exclamation escaping from his mouth in a bubble of air. The darkness pushed at the edge of his vision as the burning pain and the icy water overtook him. "No!"_

Clark gasped softly as consciousness hit him. His back was on fire; the pain overwhelming. He tried several times to stand, each time falling back to the mattress as his back protested. Finally, he gave up, laying there and panting until the pain abated into mild discomfort. He pushed himself up on one arm, disentangling himself from the bed sheets and staggering to his feet. Clark lurched to the bathroom, gritting his teeth against the recurring agony. Stumbling in, he stopped in front of the mirror and clutched the counter tightly. Slowly, the pain abated into mild discomfort, and he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Carefully, Clark stood upright, and looked over his reflection. His dark hair was tousled, the famous curl no more than a tuft that stuck out at an odd angle. Dark circles under his eyes told of his disturbed sleeping patterns and lack of sunlight. He turned around, twisting his neck to see his back. The gauze he had applied last night was now stained crimson. Carefully, he removed the bandages to reveal the wound, throwing the stained rag carelessly into the trashcan. The skin around the laceration was pale, clammy and tinged slightly with green. Immediately surrounding the opening were small yellow and purple bruises, no doubt formed when Luthor had twisted the knife. In the very center was the injury itself: a dark, thick broken scab, surrounded by a small amount of pus (likely his body trying to push out the kryptonite fragments), that was split down the middle with a brilliant crimson ribbon that wound down to the top of his white boxers. As he'd fought against sheets that he had dreamed were choking him, he must have split it open. Again. At this rate, it would never heal.

With a sigh, Clark glanced through the wall at his clock. 5:23 AM. Oh well. He liked to get up in time to catch the sunrise anyways.

Quickly, Clark showered, dressed his wound and donned the Suit - not because he was planning to do any Superman work, but because it was the only clothing that would both stand up to high speeds and allow sunlight to penetrate through to his skin. That, and he wanted to make absolutely sure that no-one caught a glimpse of Clark Kent soaring through the air. After checking around to ensure that no spectators were present, he leaned out the window and launched himself into the sky.

Soon, he was gliding through the upper stratosphere, moving east, basking in some much-needed sunlight. Clark found a nice spot and rolled onto his back, closing his eyes and placing his hands behind his head. Oh God, that felt _so_ good... With a contented smile, Clark allowed his mind to wander.

His expression turned sour as his thoughts turned, once again, to Lex Luthor. Although he had been trying to avoid brooding on the man recently, his attempts had not been entirely successful.

He knew about Jason. Lex Luthor knew about Jason. And, as if that wasn't bad enough, Jason was, indeed, vulnerable to kryptonite. The madman knew who his son was, and how to hurt him. And, if Luthor _was_ behind the major purchases of diving equipment recently, and kryptonite _had_ fallen into the ocean... it was bad. Terrifying.

And even if Luthor wasn't behind the S&R for pieces of new Krypton...if any had fallen into the ocean, and a criminal got their hands on it... it really worried him.

Shoving thoughts of Luthor and kryptonite to the back of his mind, Clark lay there for a while longer, letting the sunlight do its work to repair his aching body. Finally he had to go. Rolling onto his stomach, Clark flew back to his apartment, and got ready for work.

* * *

She groaned and rubbed her eyes, trying in vain to dispel the exhaustion. Cordelia Lamma was completely spent: she had, at the insistence of the Boss, been up since midnight organizing a search for xenomaterials that may have fallen into the water after New Krypton was lifted into space. 

"'Work discreetly,' he says," she mumbled, "'Avoid suspicion,' he says, 'If anyone asks, you're testing the effects of New Krypton on the ocean's fragile ecosystem. Night-time is best for the dirtier work.' What a load of bullshit."

Cory sighed, closing her eyes and resting her head in her hands. How had it come to this? She should still be working at her lab, heading research programs, maybe even _really _studying the after-effects of New Krypton, not burning the midnight oil to help some shady benefactor salvage fragments of radioactive substances. But when the private organization for which she was working had began to lose money, her lab had lost the funding, and Cory had soon found herself without a job. That was when the Boss had come in, offering her a job. Do a bit of work to help him, and he would make sure that she found another position after she was done and get paid a hefty amount in the process. (It wasn't like she was a big fan of the alien anyways: Cory had absolutely no qualms about aiding in ridding the Earth of Superman.) So now, here she was, struggling to keep her eyes open as her subordinates continued to search.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself away from the railing and walked over to Andrew Palmer.

"How are we doing?"

"Well," the man said, looking up from the display, "We think we might've found somethin', but it's pro'lly nothin'."

"Lovely," she said, pushing him to the side and pressing the intercom button. "What've we found, guys?"

"Not sure," came the slightly staticky response, "A lot of big chunk of rock. It seems to fit the specs, but we're still working on a sample for confirmation. "

"What about the radiation levels?"

"We're getting something, but something's messing with our readings. Might be the water."

"Well, get a piece and we'll analyze it up here."

"Can do, Ms. Lamma. Jorge out."

"Cordelia out." Cory stepped away from the display and glanced at her watch. It was nearly 6:00 in the morning. God, if they didn't find something this time, she was hitting the hay, orders be damned.

Perhaps ten minutes later, the divers had resurfaced, samples in hand. Removing their breathing equipment, the men had laid it out across the table. Cory walked over. She looked them over. Dull grayish color, crystalline form, with a large vein of a deep green mineral running through it. She fired up the scintillation counter, waving the sensor over the crystals in front of her. Consistent radiation levels. For the first time since the closing of her lab, she allowed herself to smile in relief.

"Call the Boss," she told the team, "I think we've found something." Without another word, she headed towards her bunk for some well-deserved rest.

* * *

Luthor groaned slightly as the ringing woke him. Muttering curses under his breath, he groped for the phone, flipping it open and checking the CID. It was Palmer.

"This had better be important," he growled into the phone.

"We found somethin, Boss," came the response. Immediately, all traces of fatigue left him.

"What?"

"We found somethin'."

"I know that, you idiot. I mean as in have you found kryptonite, or just crystals?" he snapped.

"Counter says it's kryptonite, and lots of it. Some crystal too, but not th' pure stuff."

"How much?"

"Hard t'say right now, but a whole lot. Couple dozen pounds."

"Good. Box it up and ship it to the boys in refining," he said, snapping the phone shut without waiting for a reply. With a sigh, he stepped out of bed. There was no way he was going back to sleep now – he had plans to make, and aliens to kill…. He started to set the phone back down, then stopped as he saw the kryptonite fragment. Well, while he was making phone calls anyways... he flipped the phone back open and dialed in a number.

"Hello, Keys' Jewelers."

"Hello, Josh. Long time, no see. You're a jeweler now? Last I saw you, you weren't _selling_ jewelry..."

"Luthor?" came the surprised voice, "Look, I don't know what you want, but I'm legitimate now. I have a _family. _I'm not doing any more jobs."

"Josh, Josh, Josh," Lex chuckled, "You misunderstand me. I have no intention of asking you to do anything illegal. Far from it. I simply wish to engage your services as a jeweler, free of charge or tattling to the feds" he said.

"And then you'll leave me alone? We're finally even? No more favors?"

"You have my word."

"... I'm listening."

"I'd like you to make a ring," Lex said, tossing the kryptonite in the air with his free hand, "A very special ring..."

* * *

How long has it been since I last updated? Sorry for the delay, but I am experiencing just a little bit of writers block right now. There's an event I'm eagerly waiting for, but I'm having trouble sticking to my timeline, and without my timeline, my fic dies. Things should flow smoother once I tie up some loose ends.

Review. Please. I'm begging you.


	8. Schism

A/N: This is a shortie, but important. In case you haven't guessed, this is indeed the plot point that I have been frantically stalling in order to buy enough time to develop. Although it has no ties to BrainIAC or anything, and no direct effect on the overall plot, it is important because I need this to happen so that I can actually move on to the fun things that I want to do. In my book, loose ends need to be tied before I can make new ones.

Oh no, now I'm babbling. Heh. Well, enjoy the chapter, and please, review!

* * *

Lois Lane clutched the pillow to her chest, fiddling with a loose thread as she stared blankly at the wall. On the table before her lay a few crumbled chocolate bar wrappers and a half-drunk cup of peppermint tea that had long since gone cold. It was a quarter past ten at night, Jason was fast asleep upstairs, Lois wasn't, and Richard had not yet come home. Again. There wasn't a single night in the past week that Richard had not stayed to work at the Planet late. She had hardly said a word to her fiancé recently, and on the rare occasion that she did, shouting was sure to follow. They hadn't even _slept_ in the same bed for six nights now, not that she was counting. They had tried to hide the hostility from Jason, but the boy was obviously starting to pick up on it. The boy had started to ask why Daddy was never around at night to tuck him in, or why he only saw him when he went to his parent's work after school. 

And he wasn't the only one, either. Although they would never say anything to her directly, Lois was all too aware of the gossiping of her coworkers; the rumors and whispers spreading like wildfire throughout not just the Bullpen, but much of the building. She hated it. She didn't need gossip, she didn't need concern, and she most definitely didn't need _pity. _Her relationship was _her_ business, damn it.

Her relationship...

Her _relationship _was disintegrating before her eyes, and she had no idea how to fix it. If it even could be fixed. Could it? Did she want it to be fixed? Could a relationship created by mutual rebounds and based on mutual deception and lukewarm affection _ever _result in anything but disaster? Were Jason and a mild fondness for each other really enough to keep them together?

A quiet crunching noise broke the still air as Richard pulled into the driveway, and the jangling of the locks and the creaking of the door came shortly afterwards. Her fiancé walked in, closing the door behind him. He entered her field of vision, hanging up his jacket and setting down his briefcase. Their eyes locked briefly as they exchanged a sad look, then broke it as Richard walked away and Lois turned her gaze back to the wall, twisting the engagement ring on her finger. And so they continued their empty routine.

And then they didn't.

"What happened, Lois?" said a voice from the doorway. Lois turned, looking at her fiancé in surprise.

"What?"

"What happened, Lois? To our lives? To us?"

"I-" the question caught her off guard, her tired brain too numb to think. "I don't know," she answered honestly.

There was silence for a few moments, then, "I love you. You know that, right?" Richard asked. Lois looked away. She continued to play with the ring, watching the lights dance over the gleaming surface.

"I know, Richard."

"Do you love me?" he asked, pleading silently with her to say yes. She neither answered nor met his gaze. "Lois?" She felt a hand cup her chin, gently tilting her face upwards. "Look at me, Lois." She fixed her eyes on his, and saw what she had never seen before: doubt, guilt, and vulnerability. Lois saw the need; the searching in the gaze. At that moment, she knew that he did not want comforting lies: he wanted – no, _needed_ - the truth.

"No." This time it was Richard who did not respond, Richard who looked away. And that was it. One word was all it took. One word was all that was needed to end it all: to break his heart, to shatter their life, to turn their world upside-down. "I mean-" she started, suddenly overcome with the compulsion to explain, to elaborate, to do something, _anything, _to banish the hurt in his eyes._ "_I_ like_ you Richard. You're a good man, you're a wonderful father. It's just - it's me. Somewhere along the line I guess we - fell out of love."

"Were we ever _in _love to begin with?" he asked, his voice a shaky, as if he was trying to hold back tears. Lois did not answer. The unspoken response hung heavily in the air. The silence was deafening. Tears brimming in her eyes, she removed the ring, pressing it gently into his hand.

"I'm sorry, Richard. I'm so sorry." Closing his fingers around it, she gently dropped his hand and stood, turning away from the only life she'd known for nearly five years. Without looking back, she fled to their shared bedroom – a room that would now be shared no more, and closed the door behind her. Finally letting go, her knees buckled, and Lois fell to the ground sobbing.

* * *

If you are now reading this A/N, then chances are, that means that you have either just spent the time to read this incredibly long (I believe I'm up to 43 pages now) story, or you have been following this for a while and are just now reading the new update. Either way, you have clearly put a lot of time into reading my work. And I thank you very much for that, don't get me wrong, but it just seems to me that if you can put in the time and effort to read this whole thing, then you can put in one more minute to review... 

And if that doesn't help, remember, every time someone reads without reviewing, a puppy dies.

Please, think of the puppies.


	9. Aftermath

A/N: I see we have some puppy lovers out there... Oh, and as my mother kindly pointed out when she went to review, the email option in the field for anonymous reviews does not state that it is optional. It's been a while since I've reviewed anonymously, but last I checked, you don't have to put anything in there, so any unregistered users reading this: you CAN review without giving out personal information.

Anyway, sorry for how long it's taken me to update. I can't promise that they'll become any more frequent, but I promise to do my best.

* * *

Consciousness came to her gradually. Lois groaned slightly, shifting in bed and covering her eyes as sunlight hit them. Reluctantly, she forced them open, coming face to face with the back of her shirt sleeve.

... Her sleeve? Now slightly more alert, Lois pushed herself up, and looked down at herself. _Why am I still wearing my clothes from work yesterday?_

The events of last night washed over her like ice water, and Lois let out a noise somewhere between a sob and a gasp as the still raw emotions enveloped her. _Oh God, what have I done?_

Trembling faintly, she stumbled out of bed, looking around the room. A folded scrap of paper on the bedside table caught her eye, and she picked it up. It was a note, with her name scrawled on the front in sloppy lettering. She vaguely remembered collapsing in exhaustion on top of the covers last night. But she'd woken with a blanket over her. Richard must have come in after she'd fallen asleep to leave the note, and pulled the blanket over her, knowing she'd get cold. It was thoughtful deeds like that – even, and sometimes especially, after an argument, that had attracted her to Richard in the first place. She flipped it open, sitting back down as she read the text.

_Lois,_

_I'm so sorry that it had to come to this. I've gone to a hotel for the night: I'll call you later, we'll sort out our things and Jason. Tell Jason I love him._

_Richard._

The note was short, dry and hasty, but it ripped at her heartstrings all the same. She crumbled the paper absently, setting it back down. God, how could she have done this? Richard was such a good man: he didn't deserve this heartbreak, he didn't deserve this. She should never have led him on for so long, she should never have let them fall apart like this, she should never have allowed this to happen!

Mechanically, she stood, stumbling into the bathroom, grabbing an outfit without a second glance and running through her morning routine on autopilot. After a while, she went downstairs, cold and composed. Jason was still in his room, so Lois began make them breakfast. Although her years of domestic life had taught her – or rather, forced her to learn - basic cooking abilities. She was no gourmet chef, and in her exhausted state breakfast consisted of no more than a few frozen waffles shoved into the toaster and two glasses of orange juice. Content with the meal she had prepared, Lois trudged back up the stairs, turning into Jason's room.

The boy was sprawled out on the bed, half-under and half-above the covers, his head barely resting on the pillow, sleeping contentedly. Lois smiled at the expression on his face: he looked so peaceful, so untroubled by the chaos that had consumed her life. She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently.

"Come on munchkin, time to get up."

Her son groaned, turning away from her and pulling the covers tight around him.

"C'mon, wake up." She sat down next to him, shaking him again.

"Ngh," Jason moaned, yanking the sheets over his head, "I don' wanna get up," he protested groggily.

After a bit more coaxing, she managed to guide the sleepy boy out of bed, into some proper clothes and down the stairs. By the time they arrived, the waffles had already popped, and she arranged them onto their respective plates, putting one down in front of Jason.

"Waffles?" he complained, poking at the slightly charred food, "Why isn't Daddy cooking breakfast? Where is he?"

Los paused, then said, "Never mind, Jason, just eat your breakfast."

"Why? Where's Daddy?"

Lois took a deep breath, walking over and kneeling down to face him. "Jason, honey, Daddy and I aren't going to be living together anymore."

His brow wrinkled in confusion. "Why not?"

"We just aren't, okay Jason?"

"No."

"What?" She blinked, not used to hearing that word from her normally well-behaved son.

"It's not okay. Why aren't you going to live with each other anymore? Where will I live? I don't want you or Daddy to go!"

"Jason, it's complicated, but-"

"No!" the boy screamed, pulling away from her, "You're my Mommy and Daddy! You're supposed to live together with me!"

"Jason-" but the boy didn't listen. Tears running down his face, he sprinted away up the stairs. "Jason!" She cried, running after him but unable to catch up. She reached his room just in time to have the door slam in her face, her son pulling it shut with such force that the doorknob was ripped partially from the door. "Jason Samuel Lane! You open this door right now!"

The only response was the sound of quiet sobbing. Admitting defeat, she turned around and slunk back downstairs, collapsing in front of her uneaten breakfast. She cradled her head in her hands. For a few moments she stayed like that, taking deep breaths as she strained to hold back tears herself. Finally, she stood and walked over to the phone. First she called Jason's school, quietly informing the principal that her son would be absent due to personal issues. Hanging up, she then began to dial Perry's number at the Planet. She couldn't go into work today. She couldn't face Richard's friends, or, even worse, Richard.

Or his uncle... she realized partway through dialing. Richard had probably already talked to Perry about his and Lois' break-up, and if he didn't, she sure didn't feel like explaining it. How would she talk to him, tell him that _she _needed an off-day because _she _broke up with _his_ nephew. She pressed the end button, then punched in a different number. If _she_ couldn't talk to Perry...

* * *

Clark Kent was sitting at his desk, organizing his notes when the phone rang. Expecting one of his sources, Clark picked it up and answered,

"Clark Kent, Daily Planet. Can I help you?"

"Hey, Clark?" responded a shaky, all-too familiar voice.

"Lois?" he asked in surprise, "Where are you? You're usually here long before I am."

"Yeah, about that: I- uh- I'm not really feeling too good today. I don't think I'll be coming in today. Can- can you tell Perry I won't be here?" Her voice wavered slightly. "Please?"

"Uh, sure... But why are you asking me? Isn't it easier to just tell the Chief yourself?" he asked, baffled at her call. She had hardly spoken with him since he got back, and now this?

For a moment there was silence, then, "Could you just tell Perry that I won't be in today?" Lois asked quietly, almost pleading. Alarm bells sounded in Clark's head.

"Lois, are you all right?" Clark asked in concern. "You sound upset..."

"I'm fine!" she snapped, "Well, no, I'm not, I told you, I'm sick! And what does it matter, anyway? If I say I won't be coming in today, you don't need to badger me about it!" she finished, her voice steadily increasing in volume.

"Lois, calm down," Clark said soothingly, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude."

"Oh God, Clark, I'm sorry. It's just- I-" there was a muffled sob from the other end, "Richard and I broke up last night," she whispered.

"...What?" Clark asked, reeling. Broke up? But- Oh God, this was all his fault. He should've been strong enough to stay away from Lois - just left them alone when he came back. Now Richard had lost his son and fiancé, Lois was a wreck… And Jason! He had destroyed the only family that his son had had his entire life. The boy needed stability, he needed his dad. What was he going to do?

Another quiet sob snapped him back to reality. "God, Lois, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked-"

"No," Lois said, "No, Clark, it's okay. I just- I- I guess I just need someone to talk to right now... I'm sorry for- for burdening you with this."

"Lois, I don't mind-" Clark stopped and took a deep breath, "Look- if you- if you need someone to talk to, or if you need anything else- I'm here, okay?"

"Thank you, Clark," Lois said, sounding genuinely grateful, "I just need to- to get this sorted out, okay? I mean, Jason's so upset about it, and Ri- he- I don't know who'll get what and- I don't know what to do." She sobbed again. "I just need some time."

"Shh," he interrupted her, his voice deepening slightly to the octave he used as Superman, "It's okay. It'll be okay."

"Could you just- just tell Perry, I won't be in."

"All right. I'll do that."

"Thank you," she whispered, "I- I have to go." She hung up. Clark stared at the phone for a moment, then pushed himself up and headed towards Perry's office.


End file.
